


A Cunning Plan

by yodasyoyo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, High School AU, Insecure Stiles, Jock Derek, M/M, Nerd Stiles, Oblivious Stiles, Pining Derek, Protective Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/pseuds/yodasyoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a plan to get Lydia Martin to notice him. Derek is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [A Cunning Plan [Traduccion]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598324) by [Happy_Crazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Crazy/pseuds/Happy_Crazy), [yuki_yuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuki_yuki/pseuds/yuki_yuki)



> I've decided that Mondays will be the day when I produce random tat and generally have a break from writing Remedy. I nearly called this fic 'All Your Tropes Are Belong to Us'.
> 
> There's no excuse for this really. None.

It's involved weeks of planning.

Months even.

This was always going to be the tricky bit though, finding a space, just a minute, to get Derek Hale on his own.

Derek Hale. Popular. Gorgeous. Lacrosse co-captain. Openly Bisexual.

Derek Hale. Key component of Stiles' long term plan to successfully woo Lydia Martin.

The long term plan is a whole thing. He has a bar graph at home and a very detailed flow chart. If everything goes horribly wrong it could take maybe ten years to complete.

It could be less though, with Derek's help. Significantly less.

So when he sees Derek sitting alone at the cafeteria table on Thursday lunchtime, he doesn't question it, doesn't flinch, doesn't hesitate. He just walks straight over pulls out a chair and sits down at Derek's table.

Like he's meant to be there.

He is meant to be there.

Derek is sitting alone.

This is like finding a purple unicorn that breathes rainbows and winning the lottery on the same day.

This is the universe telling him to go for it.

Derek looks up at him in surprise. “Uh-- hey?” he says, confused.

Stiles and Derek don't really move in the same circles at school. In fact if he drew a venn diagram the only little sliver of overlap would be AP History on Thursday afternoons and that's just the class schedule situation. If he drew a venn diagram of their social circles-- well-- that wouldn't even work. Derek would have one circle that included all his lacrosse buddies and popular friends and Stiles would just be a weird scribble at the top of the page that was probably the person drawing the venn diagram testing their pen for ink. He isn't really supposed to be there at all. He doesn't have a social circle. He had a Scott. Scott moved to Nevada six months ago. Since then everything has kinda sucked.

Not for long though, if this goes to plan.

“Hey," Stiles says brightly. “We need to talk.”

“We do?” Derek arches an eyebrow, reaching for his pudding cup. “What about?”

“Okay. So. I know you probably don't know who I am-” Stiles begins.

“Stilinski right?” Derek interrupts. “You're in my history class.”

“Yes!” Stiles agrees enthusiastically. “Exactly. History! You see? Look at us with all the things in common. This is totally going to work.” _The universe is on his side._

Derek looks at him blankly. “What's going to work?”

“Okay. I just-- I want to ask you something, but before I ask you _that_ I have to ask you something else first. Does that make sense?” Stiles asks. Admittedly it's not the easiest conversation to follow and he is kind of rushing the words out. Shit. He's so nervous.

Derek puts down his pudding cup and looks at him. “I... think so?” he says cautiously.

“Good!” Stiles sighs, relieved. “Excellent. Here's the thing.” He takes a deep breath. This is one of two points where the plan could go completely and utterly wrong.

 _Fuck, just go for it._ He tells himself. _Quick. Like ripping off a band aid._

“Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

Derek looks bemused. “Am I seeing anyone?” he repeats.

Stiles nods. “Yes. It's important that I know the answer to that before I ask you the next question.”

Derek leans forward and smiles slightly, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. “N-no. No, I'm not," he replies his gaze kind of intense. “Why do you want to know?”

Stiles sighs in relief. Excellent. This next bit might be a bit more difficult though. Oh God, he can feel his palms beginning to sweat.

“The thing is, I wanted to ask if you would go out on a date with me,” Stiles blurts out. Derek opens his mouth to reply. “I mean! I mean I wanted to ask if you would pretend to date me,” Stiles clarifies quickly. “So that I can go out with Lydia.”

The smile slides off Derek's face and a look of complete bewilderment replaces it. “You're asking me to date you so that you can date Lydia?” he repeats. His eyebrows try to disappear into his hairline. “Just- I- _what?”_

Shit. Stiles is losing him. This isn't good. Okay. “Look, it's like this. I'm in love with Lydia Martin. I have been since I was six years old. She's my soulmate. We are destined to be together. I _know_ it. The thing is, she doesn't know I'm alive. So. I've devised a plan to get her to notice me.”

“By dating me,” Derek states flatly. “It doesn't sound like a great plan.”

“Well, just, let me explain. Look, I know it sounds weird, but I think Lydia and I would be a really good match, and if I could just get on her radar I think she would feel the same way. The thing is, we don't really... move in the same circles. Also, I've never even be on a date with someone. So I figured, if I could get a date with someone who was above me on the food chain, who was kind of... equal to her, it would improve my credibility, maybe give her the chance to notice me.”

“It's a shitty idea.” Derek looks deeply unimpressed. “Are you even bi?”

“I am. At least I'm fairly sure I am. I've not got any practical experience, but I'm definitely attracted to guys as well as girls,” Stiles says, flustered. "This isn't just about simple attraction though. I'm in _love_ with her.”

Derek looks down at his pudding cup and fiddles with the lid. He doesn't speak for a bit. At least he's not outright rejecting this idea though. “So you want to pretend to date me so that Lydia will notice you,” Derek reiterates eventually in a low voice.

“Yes.” Stiles nods, his face scrunched up like he's braced for impact, because this whole conversation is about to crash and burn. Damn you universe! _Please agree Derek_. He thinks trying to project his thoughts into Derek's mind. _Please agree._

Derek takes a deep breath and when he looks up again he has an expression on his face that Stiles can't quite parse. “What's in it for me?” he asks.

Stiles grins in what he hopes is a winning manner. “I'm glad you asked," he says. “I, um... overheard coach talking to you the other day about your erm... Chemistry grade in relation to your place on the lacrosse team.” He falters a little at the stormy expression which appears on Derek's face but barrels on anyway, “I thought I could offer to tutor you. If you want.”

Derek scowls, saying nothing.

“My chem grade is excellent," Stiles adds as an afterthought. That's an important fact after all.

Derek looks at him for a long moment, He's frowning so hard his eyebrows are making sweet, sweet love to each other.

Like horny little caterpillars.

If caterpillars were capable of making love.

Which they aren't.

Stiles is definitely getting sidetracked.

Nerves do that to him.

“How long for?” Derek says finally.

“What? The fake dating?” Stiles asks. Derek nods. “I was thinking maybe a month or two. Enough time to put me firmly on her radar you know? I think if I can just get to know her a bit...” he trails off at the  
expression on Derek's face. “What do you think?” he asks lamely.

Derek stands up abruptly. “I think it's the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard, and you're an idiot.”

Stiles feels his heart drop into his boots. “Oh...” he says unhappily, sinking back in his chair. “Right. Well, thanks for listening.”

It _is_ a shitty idea. He was stupid to even try.

“I didn't say I wouldn't do it.” Derek says offhandedly. “Mom's been on my back about my Chem grade forever.”

Stiles nearly falls off his chair in shock.

“What are you doing Thursday after school?” Derek asks casually.

“Nothing. Homework. Why?”

“I'll come back to yours and we can talk this crazy 'plan' over some more. Also, you're tutoring me on my chemistry.”

“Okay!” Stiles says, barely able to keep the grin off of his face.

Derek walks away.

“Thanks!” Stiles calls.

Derek ignores him.

That's probably justified.

 

o0o  
   
 

 

 

 **So many tropes! We can never include them all!**  
  
**So I've left this as a short and sweet ficlet because basically I have another**[series](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/series) that I'm trying to complete at the moment. There's definitely scope for more Derek and Stiles shaped shenanigans here. Maybe I'll think about expanding on this at some point or maybe I'll just leave it as a sweet lil one shot. I don't know. Either way I hope you enjoyed it!  
  
**Also I am on**[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo), sort of. (I basically follow other people but would be happy to have followers/take story requests.)

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't judge me. I know I said I'd leave it as a ficlet but this plot bunny just won't leave me alone. SO. Chapter 2.

Stiles sees Derek around the school occasionally over the next couple of days. Derek doesn't say anything, but sometimes Stiles catches him staring.

It's a stare that is full of judgement and foreboding. Weighty.

At least Stiles interprets it that way.

It might just be Derek's impressive eyebrows though, they scrunch together when he stares. They look like they probably weigh quite a bit.

That's it.

Derek isn't staring at him in judgement because Stiles has involved him in his, admittedly convoluted, plan to woo Lydia.

No.

Derek is just struggling with the considerable weight of his eyebrows, and he just happens to be looking in Stiles direction occasionally.

It's a comforting thought and Stiles kind of runs with it.

Whatever.

Derek Hale has agreed to help Stiles as part of a mutually beneficial agreement, and soon he will be reaping the benefit of an improved chemistry grade _and_ a continued place on the Lacrosse team, and Stiles will be one step closer to getting Lydia Martin to fall in love with him.

Its all good.

 

When Thursday rolls around they've still not firmed up their plans to meet up after school. Stiles is beginning to have doubts. Is Derek still up for this? Is he having second thoughts? Did Stiles in fact just hallucinate his entire conversation with Derek?

They're legitimate concerns.

Finally in AP History, Derek wanders over before the class starts and says “Meet me by my car tonight after school. Don't be late.” Then he turns on his heel and strides back across the room to his usual desk.

Suddenly Stiles is torn between relief that he didn't just imagine this situation, and the terrifying realization that Derek Hale is actually going to come over to his house tonight. He's probably going to have all kinds of questions about what's expected from him as a fake boyfriend, and to be honest Stiles doesn't have the answers.

He has a whole file of notes about how to woo Lydia. The Derek portion of the plan though is a little sparse on the details.

 

It basically reads: 

  1. Find Derek alone
  2. Convince Derek to pretend to date you.
  3. Use this as a networking opportunity to get Lydia to notice you.



 

He has loads of ideas about what he'll say to Lydia; how he'll impress her with his wit and intelligence. He's spent hours cultivating his knowledge on topics that he's observed she finds interesting. Maths. Science. Fashion.

He hasn't considered how the reality of pretending to date Derek. How will that even pan out? He's got nothing.

Oh well. Some of his best work happens when he's winging it.

It'll be fine.

Probably.

o0o

 

Any lingering doubts Stiles has about his bisexuality leave him the moment he sees Derek in his leather jacket and aviators leaning casually against his Camaro in the parking lot after school.

He's like a work of  _fucking_  art.

If Lydia is the Mona Lisa then Derek is Michelangelo's David.

Seriously.

Derek stands up straighter when he sees Stiles approaching. “Hey,” he says impassively.

“Hey!”

“Where's your Jeep?”

“Uh... a little ways over. I'll go and get it and you can follow me back to mine," Stiles says gesturing. He's more then a little nonplussed that Derek knows his car. Huh.

He's always thought of himself as a bit invisible at school. Especially since Scott left.

Guess not.

 

It isn't a long drive to Stiles' house and soon he's pulling into the driveway. Derek follows suit. His Dad isn't there because he's working this evening, so they'll have the house to themselves. Stiles lets them both in through the front door.

“Drink?” he offers. It seems like the thing to do.

Derek shrugs and takes off his sunglasses. “What have you got?”

“Uh... Water? Coffee? Possibly some Pepsi?”

Derek makes a face. “Water's fine.”

Stiles nods, gets a glass, fills it and brings it over to the kitchen table. Derek has already drawn up a chair.

“So fake relationship first or Chemistry?” Stiles asks sitting down.

Derek looks at him thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the table. “Fake relationship," he says finally.

“Okay, cool." Stiles gnaws his lip. He isn't entirely sure what to do now he's got Derek here. All the things he had been thinking about saying sound really dumb and immature.

_Maybe we could hold hands._

_Would you mind maybe putting your arm round my shoulder at school?_

_Could I wear your letterman jacket?_

Yeah.

Lame.

Derek looks at him a long moment and then says, astutely. “So. Not much relationship experience huh?”

Stiles winces. “Not really. I 'm planning to develop crazy amounts of game in time for college.”

“Except obviously you'll be dating Lydia by then," Derek says, acerbically.

The sarcastic bastard.

“If everything goes to plan.” Stiles says refusing to be ruffled by Derek's jibe. He will absolutely be with Lydia. Shun the non-believer! Well, except for the part where he has to pretend to date them for a bit.

Derek grimaces. “What is it about Lydia?” he asks bluntly.

And that is a question Stiles _can_ answer. “She's beautiful and smart," he gushes. “She's _amazing_. I've loved her ever since I can remember. You have no idea.”

“Right.” Derek looks like he thoroughly regrets asking. He says nothing for a bit and fiddles idly with a drinks coaster. “So what do you want from this,” he asks eventually, gesturing between them.

Stiles blushes a little. He's thought about what he wants on the drive back from school, but actually articulating it in front of Derek? Whole different ball game.

“I uh, well-- I want us to be believable. So I guess some-- physical affection when we're at school," he begins. “And-- uh--maybe a few dates. I'll pay obviously. Also if there are parties and stuff maybe we could go together?” he trails off hopefully.

Derek looks at him through narrowed eyes. “Okay," he says finally. “What sort of thing do you mean by 'physical affection?' Kissing?”

“I was thinking hand holding and stuff, but yeah, kissing too if you're up for it. That would be great, I've never actually kissed anyone before though," Stiles admits before he can stop himself. “So it... I... might not be that great at it. Just to uh... warn you.”

Derek's expression softens. He doesn't say much for a moment and Stiles can feel himself flush with embarrassment.

“We should probably agree some kind of back story," Derek says finally. “Who asked who out on a date, that kind of thing.”

“I was thinking about that.” Stiles says, leaning forward animatedly. "But seeing as I'm basically coercing you into this, I figured you might want to choose. You know, pick a story that fits your image.”

Derek raises one eyebrow. “My image?” he says, coldly.

Stiles shifts awkwardly in his chair. “Well you know, you're  _you."_ He gestures at Derek. “And I'm _me_.” He points at himself. “I think most people would feel you're I dunno, dating down?”

Derek's expression turns stony. “You think I care about that shit?” 

“No! No. Not what I meant, dude!” Stiles says, flustered. “It's just what I imagine other people will think. The truth is I don't really know you. I don't know what you think.”

Derek looks troubled though. “Do you think I would be 'dating down'. To be with you?” he asks suddenly.

Stiles shifts in his seat, unsettled. This isn't exactly how this conversation is supposed to go. “I, uh, guess so.” he says. “I mean, you're Captain of the lacrosse team and uber popular. The only friend I've ever had moved to Nevada six months ago. We're kind of in different leagues.”

“Co-captain.” Derek says, his eyebrows doing the caterpillar mating dance again.

Silence descends between them. Derek seems frustrated about something. He keeps glancing over at Stiles and then back down at his hands.

“I asked you," Derek says suddenly. “I wanted to ask you out for ages, but I didn't have the courage to do it.”

Stiles gapes. “That's the story you're going with?” he exclaims. “It needs to be believable! Come on, dude.”

Derek scowls. “What's not believable about that?” he says grumpily.

“Uh... We've already been over this. You're _you_?!” Stiles says gesturing manically between them. “And I'm _me_.”

“What does that even mean.” Derek says sounding royally pissed off. “That's just horseshit.”

Stiles splutters in indignation.

“Look,” Derek says firmly. “You said I get to choose the back story. So this is my choice. I've liked you for ages. I just didn't have the courage to ask you out because I didn't know you were interested in guys. We ended up sitting together at lunch one day and I found out you were so... I made my move.”

Stiles shrugs in defeat. “If you say so dude. I guess it has the benefit of being close enough to the truth that we won't get too confused.”

“Exactly," Derek nods, looking marginally happier.

“What about the other stuff?” Stiles says. “The physical stuff.”

Derek looks at him his gaze suddenly intense. “We can go as far as you want to,” he says. “Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Stiles finds himself blushing again! _Damn it!_ “Well... okay, we'll stick to fairly basic stuff. Holding hands. Hugging. Kissing if you're okay with it.”

Derek nods seriously. “That's fine with me.”

Stiles doesn't know where to look. It all feels very significant some how.

“Chemistry," he says hopefully. A change of subject will do them both good.

Derek grins at him. “Sure.”

o0o

 

 

  
  
**I'm officially not very good at**[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo)  **if you want to drop round and say hi!**  
  
**Also I welcome all comments kudos and concrit. It's the fuel that keeps me writing fan fic.**

**Unbetaed - so let me know if you see any mistakes.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no excuses. None. And do you know what? I'm not even sorry about it. So there.

Derek does pretty well at Chemistry. He isn't a completely hopeless case, and Stiles tells him as much.

“Thanks," Derek says dryly. “I can't tell you how much this means to me.”

“That's okay," Stiles says, grinning blithely.

Because it is.

After he's tutored Derek in Chemistry for a couple of hours, it seems churlish not to offer him some food.

Two grilled cheese sandwiches and a bag of chips later, and they're sprawled on the couch playing Mario Kart.

Derek's actually really good (surprisingly), and super competitive (not so surprisingly). If he were as good at Chemistry as he is Mario Kart his place on the Lacrosse team be assured. Stiles considers telling him this, but thinks better of it.

As his Dad always says, just because a thought comes into his head, doesn't mean it has to come out of his mouth. It isn't advice he often chooses to follow, but maybe just this once he will.

It's personal growth is what it is.

They're just crossing the wooden bridge into the first hall of Bowser’s Castle when Derek's phone starts vibrating and he swears under his breath. As he reaches for it and Yoshi goes spinning out of control as puts the controller down.

“Shit. I have to get this. It's my Mom," he says.

“Sure dude, no problem.” Stiles pauses the game.

“Hey Mom, I'm at Stiles' house.” Derek stands up and paces the area behind the back of the couch. “No... It isn't like... He's agreed to tutor me in Chemistry.” His Mom says something, and Derek glances over at Stiles and then away quickly. “Maybe," he says, with a soft smile. “Look, I'll be back soon. I better go now though. Okay? Okay. Bye Mom. Love you too.” He blushes a little then and sneaks another look at Stiles, probably to see if Stiles is mocking him for saying he loves his Mom.

As if Stiles would. If he had the chance to speak to his Mom one more time, he would tell her he loved her, and wouldn't give a damn who heard him. In fact he wishes he could go back in time and tell his past self to say it to her more while she was still alive to hear it, so there's no judgement here.

He grins at Derek reassuringly. “Time for more Mario Kart?” he asks, hopefully.

Derek shrugs. “I'll have to go soon. My mom wants me to get back so I can keep an eye on Cora tonight. They have to go out some place.”

“Oh! Okay.” Stiles replies trying not to look crushed.

Derek puts his phone in his back pocket and drops down on the couch next to Stiles. “So," he begins, awkwardly. “From tomorrow, were officially pretending to date.”

Stiles nods enthusiastically. “Yup.”

Derek looks at him. “Nervous?” he asks softly.

“A little.” Stiles feels suddenly bashful. “Like I said, I've never really dated anyone,” he confesses. “I'm kind of nervous I might fuck it up.”

Derek nods. “I get that," he says eventually. “If you want we could practice some stuff here... you know... get comfortable being close to each other.” He seems shy and there's a faint stain of color high on his cheeks.

Stiles nods. “That... um... that could be really helpful actually.” He twists round on the couch to look at Derek properly. He's still looking unfairly hot and Stiles is about to get him for relationship training wheels.

Well... he knew something in his life would have to go right eventually.

Derek is staring at him kind of intensely. Stiles finds himself getting distracted by his eyes.

They're good eyes, really pretty, kind of a bluey-goldy-greeny mishmash.

Like nature decided fuck it. Let's just throw these colors in a pot and swirl them around a bit.

Nature should do that more often. The results are _fucking_ beautiful.

Stiles breath catches in his throat.

Derek leans in a bit. 

Shit! He's really good at this, if Stiles can just up his game and not flail too much, they'll probably really be able to sell this whole fake relationship shtick.

Derek reaches over tentatively and gently takes Stiles hand. Derek's got nice hands too. Big and strong with wide palms. Derek's thumb rubs gently back and forth over Stiles' knuckles. It's amazing. Every movement is creating little sparks of tension that coil sweet and low in his stomach.

“Um...” says Stiles articulately.

“Is this okay?”

“Y-yeah. S'good.” Stiles mumbles breathily.

Oh God.

All Derek has done is hold his hand and he's already a puddle of goo. How will he ever survive if Derek does more? How will he survive if his _fucking_ plan works and he gets to make out with _Lydia Martin_? Derek leans forward a little, edging closer he reaches out his free hand and gently cups Stiles jaw, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over Stiles cheek. Stiles can't stop looking back at him now. It feels like the air around them is charged with electricity.

“Can I kiss you?” Derek asks, leaning forward.

“Yuh-huh!” Stiles says nervous but eager all the same. He can't stop staring at Derek’s lips. They look soft and plush. “I-I would like that very much, I think.”

Derek smiles a sexy half smile and leans forward, slowly and deliberately dropping a kiss onto Stiles cheek. He smells good. Clean like soap. He's a bit stubbly too and he alternates dropping kisses along Stiles jaw and nuzzling his nose and cheek gently up and down Stiles neck, which, it turns out, is an erogenous zone Stiles was not previously aware he possessed. It's a glorious warm, scratchy, snuzzley sensation overload, is what it is.

Stiles can feel himself trembling with pent up anticipation and he bites back a groan.

Derek leans back to get a look at him, “You okay?” he asks roughly, he looks a little flushed too, so Stiles doesn't feel too self conscious.

“Oh God yes! That was amazing.” Stiles says.

Derek smiles warmly and leans in again, he looks like he's going to go for a proper kiss this time which Stiles is absolutely down with. There can never be too much making out with Derek Hale, it feels so natural, so right. They're totally going to own this fake relationship.

“We are going to fool everyone,” Stiles says, sinking toward Derek and closing his eyes in anticipation.

There's no more snuzzling. No warm body leaning into his. No soft lips or scratchy stubble. Stiles cracks open one eye to make sure Derek's not lost consciousness, or vanished into thin air, or been abducted by aliens. He's still there, but he's looking at Stiles now with a tight little smile.

"I have to go,” he grits out. “I've gotta get back for my Mom. Babysitting duties. You know how it is.”

Stiles sags back in disappointment, a little confused at the sudden change of pace. “Sure. Absolutely.”

Derek gets up abruptly. “Thanks for the help with Chem," he says to a patch of ground somewhere to the left of Stiles' feet.

“No problem, dude. Listen, are you alrig-?” It's too late. Derek has left, high-tailing it out of Stiles' house before Stiles can finish the sentence.

Derek's kind of weird. Stiles decides.

Sure, he's crazy hot, but he definitely needs to do something about his interpersonal skills.

A pretty face can only get you so far.

Maybe that's something Stiles can subtly work on with him on over the coming month.

He's a generous guy after all.

It wouldn't be a big deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments. I really appreciate them. Here is yet another chapter! I hope you enjoy it. This fic is a complete guilty pleasure for me. Utter self indulgence. But if you like it too then I'm happy :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter had a title it would be called:
> 
> Derek is confused, and then pissed, and then confused, and then a little sad and grumpy; also he loves Stiles.

Stiles wakes up at 5.30 on Friday with a weird, twisty feeling in his stomach and doesn't eat breakfast.

It's nerves.

He's never been in any kind of relationship before, let alone trying to fake one with someone as popular as Derek Hale. There are so many ways he could screw this up. It's not even funny.

He gets to school extra early feeling jittery with pent up anxiety.

He simultaneously wants to see Derek and avoid him totally.

What if he says something stupid?

What if Derek tries to kiss him, and Stiles is so crap at it that Derek just laughs at him or walks away in disgust?

What if Derek is playing some kind of elaborate practical joke on him and is just going to reject him in front of everybody?

What if he's so terrible at faking this relationship that nobody believes him and Derek 'dumps' him? Lydia will never fall in love with him. Nobody will talk to him, the shame and humiliation will force him to change schools, but bad news travels fast, people at the new school will find out too. In the end he'll have to drop out of the school system entirely. His Dad will throw him out in disgrace, and then undatable, homeless, and with no qualifications he'll be forced to wander the streets destitute with a bottle. He'll be found dead of hypothermia on a river bank on a cold winters morning.

Yep. This is literally a life and death situation.

Oh God.

He lets his head thunk against the cool metal of his locker. It's kind of comforting.

He's sweating. _Thunk._

This is a terrible idea. _Thunk._

Derek's going to dump him and they're not even dating. _Thunk._

Lydia is going to despise him. _Thunk._

He's an idiot. _Thunk._

His head is beginning to hurt a little, but he deserves it. This is a stupid plan.

Maybe he should just text Derek and tell him to forget about it. _Thunk._

Maybe he should consider emigration.  _Thunk._   
  
Somewhere far away from Beacon Hills. _Thunk._  
  
Moldova maybe? He doesn't know anything about Moldova, but that's what Google's for. He could probably convince his Dad. _Thunk._

“Um... Are you okay?”

Stiles jumps, spins round wildly and slams back into his locker clinging to it. Derek's standing there looking at him, one eyebrow quirked and a small smile on his face.

“Uh... yeah?” Stiles says. “I was just erm... checking my locker to make sure it's... y'know... still working.” He smacks the locker a couple of times with his palm for emphasis.

“By head butting it repeatedly?”

“Yeah! Research has shown that the most effective way to test the robustness of a locker is by hitting your head against it. It's to do with the way the sound resonates through the locker as your head hits it. I'd go into more detail but it gets pretty complicated. So... yeah.”

“Research?” Derek smirks. 

“By scientists. Derek. They had white coats on and everything. Are you going to doubt the scientists?”

Derek grins at him. “I wouldn't dare," he says conspiratorially. _Fuck, but he's pretty_.

Stiles smiles back, he can't help himself and some of his nerves dissipate.

It's going to be fine. Derek's not a bad guy. He likes Mario Kart, he's good at History, he's got the potential to be almost average at Chemistry. He loves his mom and he's willing to babysit his little sister. He also has sexy eyes and sexy hands and kisses somewhat sexily.

How much more do you need to know about a person really? It's almost certainly probably going to be fine. Maybe.

Derek rests one hand against Stiles locker and leans in. “What's really going on?” he whispers, his breath hot on Stiles cheek.

Its sort of intimate standing like this. They're not actually touching but Stiles can feel the heat of Derek's body, can smell the soap he's uses and mint toothpaste on his breath. Stiles is not used to sharing his personal space like this, but it's good. He could get used to it.

“I was panicking,” Stiles admits quietly. “I was worried that this was all a joke and you were just going to make fun of me, or something...” He trails off, biting his lip.

He's never been popular at school, not really. He's awkward and gangly and kind of loud. People find it off putting. It was okay when Scott was still here, because they had each other, and they kind of balanced each other out. Since Scott left six months ago he's been lonely. It's difficult to make friends when you suck at first impressions, even more so when all the friendship groups have been set for years.

Derek looks at him with an expression Stiles can't parse. “I wouldn't do that...” he says, and shit, he sounds hurt.

“No, dude. I know you wouldn't really. It's just me. My issues. I guess I'm not very confident, and I tend to panic and imagine the absolute worst.”

Derek looks sad. “The absolute worst?” he asks.

“Death.” Stiles says somberly. “I've considered it, and the worst thing that could happen here is death.”

“Death by fake relationship?” Derek asks. He's doing that adorable eyebrow thing again. They're all scrunched up and serious looking. “I don't think that's a legitimate thing Stiles.”

“It is in here.” Stiles says, tapping his head.

Derek smiles at him. “Well maybe stop spending so much time in your own head then," he suggests leaning in further, his lips a whisper away from Stiles' own.

Stiles heart starts beating faster. They're going to do it. They're about to have a full on PDA in the middle of the school corridor. Sure there was hardly anybody about when Stiles first arrived but now more and more people are trickling in through the doors.

He's suddenly very aware of his own tongue.

He's never used it before in a kissing situation. What if he's really bad at it?

What if he does it wrong?

After all, what is there to do with a tongue really? Stick it and swirl it around a bit? Lick?

And yet, people talk about bad kissing so... theoretically it  _must_ be possible to do  _something_  wrong.

Maybe it's a saliva issue. Does he produce too much saliva? Now that he's thinking about it, it feels like he _probably_ does.

He hasn't thought this through at all. He needs more practice at kissing and in a less public space.

“We should go!” Stiles announces suddenly ducking under Derek's arm.

Derek looks confused at this sudden change of pace. “Go?” he asks.

“Home room!” Stiles announces brightly. “We musn't be late.”

Derek looks at his phone. “We've got at least another ten minutes," he points out and he's starting to look a little pissed. Oh God. This is becoming a theme in their relationship. “Stiles. What's going on?”

Stiles grabs him by the hands and drags him into an empty classroom.

“I'm nervous okay?” he hisses as he closes the door. “I've never done any of this for real and now I have to fake it with you. That's like never having driven a car and being handed the keys to a _Ferrari_.”

Derek looks a little nonplussed. “You think I'm a Ferrari?” he says eventually, a small, pleased smile on his face.

“Um- yeah!” Stiles whisper shouts. “I mean look at you. You're freaking ridiculous, and I have to do all this stuff with you that I've never done with anyone.” He paces the room in agitation. “What if I'm crap at it? What if you hate it? What if this all goes wrong? What am I doing?"

“Hey.” Derek says, grabbing his arms and forcing him to stop pacing. “You won't be crap at this. Everybody starts somewhere, everybody needs practice. We can do this together. I won't judge.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asks hopefully.

“Promise." Derek smiles at him.

“You think I can do this? You think I can get Lydia to like me?” Stiles presses.

The smile fades from Derek's face and he sighs. “I don't know what Lydia likes or wants,” he says sullenly. “I just... are you sure this is what you want to do Stiles? Are you sure you want Lydia?”

“Absolutely.” Stiles says desperately, “I'll do _anything_ to try and get her notice me Derek anything.”

Derek scowls.

"Look, I know you think this is a crappy plan," Stiles begins.

“Shitty," Derek responds. “I think it's a shitty plan. Don't oversell it by calling it crappy.”

“Fine,” Stiles continues, “You think it's a _shitty_ plan, and if you want to back out I'll understand. Maybe I can find someone else to tutor who could help me...”

“No!” Derek says abruptly. “I'll do it. I'll help. If this is really what you want. I'll help you get to know Lydia.”

“You're sure?" Stiles says seriously. “Because I really want this Derek, but I only want you to help if you're really on board with it.”

“I'll help,” Derek says firmly. “Don't ask anyone else. I'll do it.”

Stiles looks at him. He seems deadly serious. “Okay then.” He says, satisfied.

Derek looks awkward. “If you're not comfortable doing stuff together...” He begins.

“I want to,” Stiles interrupts. “I just, I probably want to practice a bit first. Like, not in the middle of a corridor with half the school about.”

Derek nods. “We could go on a date?” he suggests tentatively.

That sounds like an awesome idea. “That might help," Stiles says, nodding enthusiastically. “When?”

“Tomorrow night?” Derek suggests. “I'll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, beaming. “That's cool. Thanks, man.”

Derek smiles. “That's okay, Stiles.” He leans in tentatively and drops a kiss on Stiles' cheek. “We better go, we're going to be late.” He turns and heads out of the classroom.

Stiles rubs the spot Derek kissed with the pad of his thumb, it's warm and tingly.

It feels good.

He tries not to dwell on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for all your lovely comments! I really enjoy reading them and I really really appreciate getting them. :D
> 
> I have endless issues with uploading to AO3, I don't why but I do. So if you spot any formatting errors like words being run together or separated out in an odd way then let me know. I've tried to catch them all but I don't always manage it. Also I'm British so if there's the odd British spelling let me know and I can correct it :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Derek. Poor Stiles. Why do I do this to them?

The rest of Stiles day passes normally enough right up until lunchtime.

Since Scott left for Nevada, Stiles has pretty much been a lone wolf at lunchtime. Sometimes he gets to sit with other people, most of the time he doesn't. Even when he does though, there's no sense of belonging to a group or anything approaching friendship, its just casual acquaintances. He tells himself he's okay with it, but if he's honest he is kind of lonely.

So today, once he fills his tray with the cafeteria's delightful offerings, he goes to find an empty table like usual. He has a book in his bag anyway, and it isn't like he expects Derek to sit with him. After this morning it feels like they definitely need more time to work on this fake relationship in private before outing themselves to the student body.

He's only been sitting down a minute though, when Derek pulls up the chair next to him and Stiles almost drops his book in his mac and cheese. Well, he's assuming it's mac and cheese. It's _sort_ of the right color, but he hasn't been able to bring himself to taste it yet.

“Hi!” he squeaks manfully.

“Hey.” Derek smiles at him.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Stiles asks, before he can stop himself.

“Uh. Joining my boyfriend for lunch," Derek says, confused. “Should I not be?”

Stiles scrambles to sit up straighter in his chair. “No. Yes. I mean... which ever answer means you'll stay," he finishes, blushing awkwardly.

“I don't have to," Derek says uncertainly. “If you don't want me--”

“No!” Stiles reaches a hand out to stop him. “It's fine. I want you to.” He smiles nervously.

Derek looks doubtful, but sits down and Stiles leans in a bit. “I was just confused because I thought after this morning we'd be going on a few 'dates' before making things public,” he whispers earnestly.

“It's just lunch," Derek shrugs. “Its not like I have to throw you over this table and stick my tongue down your throat.”

Stiles can feel a blush creeping up his neck and up his cheeks. “Yeah! No! Of course." he sputters, "You're right. That would be... ha ha. No-one would want that. Lunch together. Just-- y'know--casual.”

Derek looks at him suspiciously. “Are you sure you're okay with me sitting here?”

Stiles checks himself, he's being ridiculous and he knows it. He exhales. “Of course I am," he says, sincerely. “I just wasn't expecting you to want that yet.”

Derek looks at him with a soft smile. “I want that," he says gently.

Stiles grins. “Okay! Hey, What did you think of-” the question dies in his throat.

There's the scrape of a chair being pulled back and Isaac Lahey sits down opposite them. “Hey Derek!” he says with a grin. “Stilinski.”

“Um. Hey!” Stiles says awkwardly. He's just doubled the amount of people he eats lunch with normally. This is weird. Possibly good. This is what he wants, isn't it? More people to expand his abysmally limited social circle.

“Isaac!” Derek grins, “Recovered from practice the other night?”

Of course. Isaac and Derek are both on the Lacrosse team together and their conversation quickly devolves into a detailed discussion about tactics, interspersed with complaints about Jackson, who is co-captain with Derek. Stiles tries to follow it, but to be honest lacrosse is not his favorite pastime, and he lapses into silence. A few minutes later they're joined by Boyd, who sits next to Isaac, and Erica, who slips into the seat on the other side of Stiles.

It's kind of weird. This is more people than he's had to talk to in the longest time, and to be honest he feels a little lost, unsure how to proceed. These are  _Derek's_  friends. They don't normally acknowledge  _his_  existence.

“Stilinski," Erica says, leaning in with a predatory smile. “Fancy seeing you here.” She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“I was here first.” Stiles points out defensively. “You all came and sat with me!”

She throws him a sly grin. “You mean  _Derek_  came and sat with you.” Something about the teasing way she says it really riles Stiles up.

“Yeah. Okay," Stiles hisses. “ _Derek_  came and sat with me, and none of the rest of you would be seen with me if it wasn't for that. I get it. _Believe me_.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Not really what I meant.” She considers him coolly, and then says, “So, where are you going on this date that Derek's been telling us about?”

Stiles sputters, spitting a mouthful of juice all over the table. “Y-you _know_ about that?” he stutters. Has Derek told them about their situation? How much as he told them? Do they think they're actually dating or do they know about The Plan? This is disastrous! He's busy having a minor mental breakdown when he notices four pairs of eyes all turned to look at him.

“Of course we know about the date.” Erica says looking confused. “Derek was grinning like an idiot about it all morning.”

Stiles head turns so quickly to look at Derek he almost gives himself whiplash.

“Really?” he asks. “You _told them_ about our date?”

Derek blushes guiltily.

“He hasn't stopped going on about it.” Erica confirms with a predatory smile. “God, you're so nervous it's adorable, really.”

“Really? You told people?” Stiles says to Derek, folding his arms tight across his chest.

Isaac is looking at him like he's deranged. “Why wouldn't he?” he asks. “Was it supposed to be a big secret?”

“Wha-? No. I just-- thought we were supposed to be taking it slowly,” Stiles finishes lamely.

Boyd snorts with laughter. “Any slower and you two will be going backwards,” he mutters under his breath.

Which... hello? Rude. Clearly these three know all about this fake dating thing, _and_ the fact that Stiles had a monumental freak out about kissing Derek this morning, because Derek's _told them_. Gah! He can't believe this. He really thought that Derek was a good guy, that he was okay with taking things slow. It isn't even like this is a real relationship anyway and... Stiles isn't experienced, he just wants to ease in to all the physical stuff in private before going public. Otherwise he'll probably just end up making a fool of himself.

Well, it looks like he's managed that anyway.

He knew this would all go wrong. This morning he convinced himself of it, and then he let Derek talk him out of it. What. An. Idiot.

“Right. Okay. Well. Sorry if we're moving too slowly for you...” Stiles mutters, grabbing his bag and getting up. “I just, I just have to go be anywhere else right now.” He flees, cheeks aflame, ignoring the sound of Derek calling him back.

He makes it all the way to the old music room before he finally stops, slamming the door behind him. Then he sinks down into a little puddle on the floor feeling sick.

It could be that mac and cheese. (If that's what it actually was. He's still not sure. Damn cafeteria food!)

It isn't the food though and he knows it. It's shame and humiliation. It's wounded pride. He can feel a burning lump in his throat and he isn't going to cry. He isn't going to give Derek Hale the satisfaction. He is _not_...

The door to the music room opens and he looks up. Derek stands framed in the doorway looking frantic.

“Stiles!” he calls. “What the fuck? What happened?”

Oh! It is on.

He is going to tear Derek apart.

He is going to...

“You told them?” he says. His voice isn't coming out like he wants it too. It sounds too sad, cracking and wavering, like he might cry any minute.

Derek steps toward him like he's a skittish animal that might bolt at sudden movements. “Should I not have?” he asks carefully.

And just like that Stiles is angry. “No you  _shouldn't_. I didn't think I'd have to point out that us pretending to date was a  _secret_  because I thought it would be completely _fucking obvious_. I also thought that you didn't mind that I wanted to take things slow.” He says and now he can feel his voice breaking, hoarse and he will not cry. _He will not_.

Derek’s eyes widen and he looks genuinely upset. The asshole. “They don't know it's fake," he says desperately. “They don't. I didn't tell them that. I told them we were dating and that we were taking it slow. That  _w_ _e_  were taking it slow. I didn't put that on you.”

He steps closer until he's standing almost directly in front of Stiles. His eyes look big and anxious. Stiles crosses his arms because while Derek is convincing, Stiles is yet to be convinced.

“I don't know what sort of person you think I am," Derek says bitterly, “But I'm not going to make fun of you about this. The fake dating plan _or_ the wanting to take it slowly. I get it. You want to be with Lydia, and you're willing to do anything to get that. You just want to be near her, to spend a little more time with her, even if it doesn't end in a relationship. You'll take _anything_  you can get because you feel a...” he pauses, blushing. “A _connection_. Well trust me when I say that I know exactly what that's like, okay? I would be the _last_ person to make fun of you over that.” he moves to stand a little close to Stiles. “This plan isn't going to work if you keep freaking out Stiles. It isn't going to work if you don't _trust_ me.”

Stiles swallows, he doesn't know what to believe. Derek looks so sad though and he seems so desperate. One thing is really clear.

“You have a Lydia?” he asks eventually.

“Yeah," Derek admits softly, the tips of his ears going bright red. He won't look at Stiles now.

“Who is it?” Stiles asks curiously.

Derek gets a hunted expression on his face. “I can't really... I don't want to...”

“Okay. I won't push for a name.” Stiles says. “Can I ask how long you've been in love with them?” 

Derek sighs and his gaze flickers over Stiles quickly. “It's... honestly Stiles. I don't know. I can't remember a time when I wasn't.” There it is, that hunted look again. That look of aching sadness. Stiles knows that look.

He reaches forward and takes Derek's hand. “It sucks doesn't it," he says feelingly.

Derek laughs hollowly. “You have _no_ idea.”

Stiles feels a surge of empathy. “I'll help you,” he says. “I'll help you get your Lydia.”

Derek laughs and there's a slight edge of hysteria to it.

“Seriously," Stiles says. “You're an amazing guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you. We can work on this... together. If you want.”

Derek shakes his head. “I'm not sure that's going to work, Stiles," he says sadly.

“It will, Derek. It will. You'll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> If you notice any spelling mistakes/formatting errors then please let me know. I have a few issues when uploading fic to AO3, and this is unbetaed.
> 
> Also love the kudos and the comments! Also I have other fics if you're interested then check them out :-)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little interlude, a bit of back story from Derek's point of view. I'd written it and wasn't going to include it, but then I though. Eh. what the hell. Some of you might like to read it :-)
> 
> It's very short though.

Interlude

  
The first time Derek saw Stiles was at the park when he was about nine years old. He'd gone there with Laura, but she'd disappeared off when she'd seen some friends from school and Derek was left sitting listlessly on the swings, bored and alone. It sucked being the only boy in the family and it wasn't any fun being a middle child either. His sisters loved to gang up against him and make fun of him for his puppy fat and bunny teeth. Laura had been calling him Bugs since he was six even though she knew he hated it. Not for the first time he wished he had a brother or a friend. Not just any friend either. A best friend like you saw people get in the movies. The type of friend you could tell anything to.

Just then, Stiles had wandered over, sat on the swing next to him and struck up a conversation. He had made it seem so easy and Derek had been enthralled. They'd sat next to each other on the swings, feet dangling against the rubber playground tiles, debating everything from their favorite comic book characters to their shared love of baseball. At one point, Derek had made a joke about something... he can't quite remember what now... and Stiles had thrown back his head and laughed, loud and long, bright brown eyes sparkling. Something had swooped low in Derek's stomach at that point, and although he didn't quite recognize it for what it was, he knew he wanted to hear Stiles do that again. He knew he wanted to be the one who made Stiles laugh like that all the time. Five minutes later though, Stile's Mom was calling him, and he had to leave.

Derek didn't see Stiles again until the first day of Junior High. He recognized him straight away though, and felt his heart stutter in his chest at the sight of him. He was about to go up and say hi, when he saw Stiles' face light up as he greeted a guy with floppy black hair and a crooked jaw. Scott, Derek discovered later, Stiles best friend and partner in crime. Derek hung back at first, embarrassed and kind of jealous that Stiles already had a friend. He went and stood near them eventually, hoping he could join them, but when Stiles glanced across at him there hadn't been a flicker of recognition. It was clear that Derek might as well be a stranger because Stiles didn't remember him at all and Derek had slunk off feeling irrationally hurt about it.

Derek couldn't help himself though, couldn't help the way his eyes were drawn to Stiles constantly. Stiles was a tightly wound ball of barely repressed energy, he was witty and intelligent and kind of beautiful. It didn't matter where they were, if Stiles was around Derek couldn't help seeking him out, couldn't help watching him.

Eventually puberty hit with a vengeance, Derek grew into himself, he lost weight and gained muscle, made the Lacrosse team and even made co-captain. One day he looked around and realized he had gone from being this socially awkward chubby guy with braces to actually being popular. Girls and guys liked him. He had friends, chief among them were Isaac, Boyd and Erica. Even his relationship with his sisters had improved now they had all grown up a bit.

It was baffling, but on the surface it had all come together for him.

Inside though, he still felt like he was stuck as the lonely little kid, sitting on the swing, wishing he had a best friend to play with.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date! And honestly I didn't feel I had included enough Teen Wolf tropes in this story so I added a little bit of Stiles oral fixation in, just to torture Derek. Mwahahaha!

Saturday night rolls around all too soon, and Stiles is stood in front of his closet trying to decide what to wear. Derek suggested a date and Stiles agreed, but Stiles has no clue what's planned for the evening. It's not like he's had much opportunity to speak to Derek since their little chat in the music room on Thursday lunchtime, and he'd been too distracted to press for details then. Because... well... The fact that Derek has a 'Lydia?'

Its a revelation.

Up until this point Stiles has gone through most of his high school career assuming that the Derek Hales and Lydia Martins of this world exist on a higher plane then the rest of them.

Derek is legitimately gorgeous, popular, good at sports, and with the exception of Chemistry, doing well academically. Yet standing in the music room with Stiles he seemed so sad and vulnerable, so defeated.

Perhaps all that success in other areas should have given Stiles a clue, life isn't that kind after all, it's going to shit on you somehow. Apparently, it's decided to shit all over Derek's love life. What Stiles can't get his head round is that there's a person out there who would turn Derek down. What kind of supermodel/saint/genius thinks they're too good for Derek fucking Hale? An idiot obviously.

The knowledge that Derek knows what he's going through has made him feel more confident though, almost like its leveled the playing field between them. They're both stuck pining for people they can't have, and that's kind of freeing. He's not panicking about this all being some kind of colossal practical joke on Derek's part now. So that's awesome.

Stiles rifles through his wardrobe and picks out his favorite Spiderman t-shirt and his best jeans. It'll do. It's not like he needs to dress up too much for Derek. They both know they're just place-holders for each other. He has showered though, and tried to do something with his hair. He's not a complete philistine.

The doorbell rings promptly at seven and Stiles thunders downstairs to open it, and promptly loses the power of speech. His new found confidence evaporates.

Derek looks amazing, far better then _anyone_ has a right to look. He's got on a tight fitting dark green button down, open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up revealing his muscular forearms. It just... it clings ... it clings in all the ways, in all the really, really, really good ways. Derek's also wearing dark jeans but... well... again with all the clinging. Oh God. Stiles is about to spend the entire evening nursing a semi. This is going to be awkward.

“Erm.” Stiles says, articulately, his higher brain function has deserted him. Godammit! He's wearing a fucking spiderman t-shirt. What was he thinking?

“Are you okay?” Derek looks worried.

“Uh... yeah?” Stiles says uncertainly.

“Are you sure?” Derek asks, taking a step toward him, his eyebrows scrunching in concern.

“I'm good,” Stiles manages to squeak out, taking a step back. “I just... where are we going tonight? I feel like I might be under dressed.”

Derek shrugs. “You look great," he says sincerely. “I really like that Spiderman t-shirt. It looks awesome.”

“Thanks!” Stles says, with a nervous bark of laughter. “You look good too.”

“Thanks.” Derek flashes him a small smile. “Shall we go then?” he says gesturing toward the door.

“Um. Sure.” Stiles grabs his grey jacket and follows Derek, trying not to stare at his ass. He can do this. It's not like this is even a real date.

 

o0o

 

Where they're going, turns out to be the diner in town. Stiles isn't under-dressed at all. He fits in fine. They both do. They take seats in corner booth out of the way and order the biggest, greasiest most delicious looking burgers on the menu, curly fries and a milkshake each. At first Stiles worries its going to be awkward, Derek isn't always the chattiest, but they manage, and soon they're debating MCU vs DCU like they've known each other forever. It's nice. Stiles hasn't had this with someone in a while, not since Scott. Not that he can really compare Derek and Scott. Scott's like a brother and Derek is... well...  _definitely_  not that.

About half way through Stiles expounding on just why Natasha Romanov is the best Avenger and entirely deserving of her own movie, he feels Derek's foot rubbing up against his calf. Its clearly a calculated gesture, and he stutters to a stop completely losing his train of thought. Derek is playing  _footsie_  with him under the table. The bastard even has a sexy little smirk playing on his lips too, like he knows just what he's doing, and what it's doing to Stiles. For the second time that evening Stiles loses all higher brain function.

“Are you okay Stiles?” Derek asks innocently, still continuing his foot based shenanigans under the table.

Stiles blushes. “Uh. Yeah. Sure I am.”

This is what Stiles wants though. Experience of being close to someone, of getting physical. Both to make he and Derek's fake relationship plausible, and so that when he finally manages to get Lydia to notice him and maybe fall in love with him, he's not totally inexperienced. So perhaps the best thing to do here would be to reciprocate in some way. Yeah... that would be good. After all they have to practice this stuff together right? That's what this date is about.

He takes a deep breath and reaches across the table casually, taking Derek's hand in his own. He strokes his thumb across Derek's knuckles rhythmically. Derek had done something similar to him the other day, and he'd enjoyed it, so its probably a good place to start.

Derek's eyes widen a little at the contact, and the smirk fades from his face leaving in its wake a soft, almost vulnerable expression, which is weird. His ears pink up too, but he doesn't pull his hand away. Stiles bites his lip and smiles back. He can't help himself. He has game! It is official!

The food arrives and they both dive in, and for a while there's just companionable silence while they eat.

“I love this place," Stiles says eventually, through a mouthful of curly fries. “I used to come here with my family all the time when I was young.”

“Yeah?” Derek replies, smiling. “Me too.”

Stiles takes a long slurp from his milkshake and the chews thoughtfully on the straw.

“I forgot to ask what you had planned for tonight," he confides. “And when you arrived looking all-" he gestures, “GQ, I thought I'd fucked up and we were going to the opera or something.”

Derek looks down at himself in confusion. “It's just a shirt Stiles," he says.

“Maybe, on some people,” Stiles replies, “but not on you dude. Trust me.” He chases his straw with his tongue and sucks the last of his milkshake out the glass noisily, his cheeks hollowing.

Derek doesn't respond. He's glaring at Stiles straw like it's personally offended him. Weird.

“Derek?” Stiles says sharply and Derek snaps his head up quickly.

“Um... wha-?” Derek replies absently, his eyes still lingering on the mauled looking tip of Stiles straw.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I was saying, you look good.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Derek says. He's looking a little flushed actually. Almost feverish. Hopefully he's not coming down with something.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks.

“Fine!” Derek says in a slightly strangled voice and goes back to eating his burger.

Stiles nods, unconvinced. He lets it slide though. Derek's wolfing down that burger and if you eat something to fast, you can get indigestion, after all.

 

o0o

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have a fairly manic week ahead of me and I'm going to struggle to do much writing. If I do any it will be on my other fic Remedy. Although it's likely that I won't post again until the weekend. After this week is over, I should be back to a more regular posting schedule though. You have been warned!
> 
> If you seen any spelling mistakes/britishisms then let me know. My work is unbeta'd so all errors are my own.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date part 2.
> 
> Now with added fluff!

They leave the diner and Stiles is feeling buoyant.

It's going well.

He thinks it is anyway.

So far there's been good conversation, hand holding and footsie. Plus the food was awesome.

He might even consider bringing Lydia here for a date if he ever gets the opportunity. Although, now he thinks about it, can he really see Lydia in a diner? I mean she's just so perfect, so gorgeous like a fragile porcelain doll or a really intelligent, sarcastic disdainful angel.

Yeah. Maybe not a diner. Maybe there's a good restaurant round here. Somewhere a bit classier.

Probably somewhere he couldn't get away with wearing a Spiderman t-shirt to.

Which is a shame, because this is his favorite fucking t-shirt in the world.

Maybe Derek could suggest a better place to take her. Somewhere that would kind of fit both of them.

He glances across at Derek, who is looking at him curiously.

Damn. Those eyes, man...

If he weren't _meant_ to be with Lydia he'd be in serious fucking trouble right now.

In fact, now he thinks about it, it seems against the law of averages that two such unfairly attractive people should be allowed in the same school. A Derek Hale and a Lydia Martin? Seriously? The odds must be astronomical. There must be-

“Stiles!” Derek says in a tone of voice that suggests he's been trying to get Stiles attention for a while.

“Um- what?” Stiles says intelligently.

Derek looks bemused. “I said, where do you want to go now?”

“Oh- uh! I hadn't really thought about it,” Stiles says truthfully. “As I've mentioned I've never really done this before so y'know... help me Obi-wan! You are totally gonna have to be my Yoda here.”

Derek’s face scrunches adorably. “I'm confused, am I Yoda or Obi-wan here?” he asks.

“Both," Stiles says impulsively. “You can be Yoda-wan if you want. You see what I did there? It's like Brangelina only infinitely cooler!”

Derek grins toothily. “What does that make you then?”

“I am clearly Luke.” Stiles says proudly. “You are going to train me in your ways so that I may master the force. Or in this case, tbe dating scene. So that I may eventually reach my full potential and woo Lydia Martin."

Derek scowls a little and changes the subject. “We could go bowling if you want. Or maybe go down to the arcade, play some video games?”

“Ooh! Arcade! I will pwn you at Virtua- just a minute. I don't think Lydia would want to go to an arcade. Maybe we should try something more-”

“ _Fuck,_ Lydia.” Derek says irritably. His forehead crinkles with displeasure. “She's not on this date.”

Stiles startles. “True,” he admits, thinking longingly of the Arcade. "Okay. I guess you're right, arcade it is.”

 

o0o

 

The arcade is awesome. They have some classic games there, along side some more modern ones. Stiles used to come here all the time with Scott. He hasn't been back much since Scott left though it's been too depressing.

Derek makes a decent replacement though. He actually seems to know what he's doing.

Which is surprising in the best possible way.

Stiles cannot remember having this much fun in ages.

They're just playing some classic Mortal Kombat, (Scorpion's spear attack is so much cooler then  _anything_  Sub Zero has to offer, _Derek!_ ), when Stiles phone starts to ring.

“Shit!” he exclaims fumbling with his phone while trying not to lose control of his character. Derek smirks, and takes the opportunity to use Sub Zero's ice blast attack on Stiles, sorry, Scorpion's ass.

Fuck that cheating cryomancer asshole.

“Dad!” Stiles says, scowling at Derek. “What's up?”

“Just checking in son. Reminding you about your curfew," his Dad says. “I know it's not a school night but you still have to be back in for-”

“10.30, I know.” Stiles says, sourly.

Derek uses Sub Zero to summon a Frost Hammer and Stiles mashes buttons hopelessly trying to defend against it; his mobile phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear.

“Okay. Just try to remember it. I will be checking.” his Dad says good-naturedly.

“Okay Dad. See you-shit!”

“Stiles?” His Dad says with vague concern.

“Nothing Dad. Sorry. Just... bad timing.” Stiles scowls at Derek who is full on grinning now that he's won, eyes shining with delight.

His Dad snorts derisively. “Okay. See you tomorrow son. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” Stiles says, flipping the bird at Derek.

Derek laughs. “Wanna go again?”

Stiles checks his phone for the time. “Can't.” he says frowning. “That was my Dad, I've gotta be back home in the next twenty minutes.”

“Oh.” Derek says, looking disappointed.

“This isn't over though, Hale.” Stiles says menacingly. “Next time we come here I will kick your ass.”

“Next time?” Derek asks, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

Stiles blushes. “Well, y'know, if you want there to be a next time," he amends.

Derek grins. “Oh. There's going to be a next time. You don't think I'd give up another opportunity to pound your ass into the ground do you?”

“You want to pound my ass?” Stiles says, smirking evilly. “Here I thought this was all pretend.”

Derek blushes furiously. It's actually a really attractive look on him. “I- Wha- I jus-”

“Relax dude.” Stiles says slapping him on the shoulder. “I'm totally joking. You don't need to look so worried." He turns and starts to walk away. “Your smack talk needs work though," he calls over his shoulder.

 

o0o

 

Derek drops him off and insists on walking him to his door, his hand rests lightly on the small of Stiles back and suddenly Stiles is back to feeling nervous again.

Whats the etiquette here?

What's Derek expecting?

Should he invite him in?

“I had a good time tonight," Derek says, smiling softly.

“Yeah," Stiles responds, heart jack hammering in his chest. “Me too.”

Derek's looking at him fondly, a small smile playing on his lips.

Stiles panics, not sure whether to lean in and try for a kiss, or maybe just manfully slap him on the back, like bros.

Except.

Except they're not bros are they?

Not right now.

They're more like... bros with benefits.

They're-

Derek leans in his breath a whisper across Stiles cheek, his eyes flick down to look at Stiles lips.

“Is this okay?” He asks, almost shyly.

Stiles nods mutely. Not quite trusting himself to speak without breaking the spell and then suddenly there Derek is, his lips a gentle press against Stiles own, warm and insistent.

Stiles feels his knees buckle a little at the sensation and Derek immediately loops his arm round Stiles waist, grasping a handful of Stiles t-shirt and pulling him in closer. Stiles goes easily, every sense in his body humming in glorious symphony.

As quickly as it's started though it ends. Derek pulls back, flushed, pupils blown wide. He swallows and steps back.

Stiles worries his bottom lip with his teeth, temporarily rendered speechless.

“G'night Stiles," Derek says, smiling.

“Night,” Stiles replies. His lips feel warm and tingly. He reaches up and trails a finger absently against them as he watches Derek leave.

It's been a good night.

 

o0o

 

 **Look at me with the new chapter! That's two fics updated in as many nights. I hope you liked it As always comments, kudos, concrit all very welcome. Spot a mistake then let me know. This is unbeta'd and I'm British, I can't help it, I was born that way, so if you spot any Britishisms, then let me know!**  
  
**If you liked this then may I suggest my other[fics](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works)?**  
  
**Also I am on[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo). Always looking for people to come and flail randomly about these two professional life ruiners with me.**

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look another chapter. This chapter is dedicated to the fabulous Holaworld. Who always leaves me such lovely reviews on all my fics and specifically suggested I show Stiles asking Derek out from Dereks POV.

Interlude II

 

When Derek looked back on his life so far, there were a lot of things that he'd only done to prove something to Laura. Whether that was eating a worm when he was four, (because Laura dared him to), climbing up on the garage roof to retrieve a football, (which had resulted in a two broken legs and six weeks off of school) or asking someone out for the first time.

Laura and he were partners in crime. Only a year apart, they had that peculiarly sibling relationship which involved excessive teasing, a fair amount of hating each other, and a fierce, bone shaking loyalty that meant they would always have each others back no matter what happened.

Laura was the first one he had come out to, admitting his bisexuality to her one evening in late summer, while sitting together in the apple tree at the bottom of the garden. She was also the only one he had ever voluntarily talked to about his feelings for Stiles.  
  
At first she had been super supportive, but two years in, when he was still refusing to ask Stiles out, she had snapped in frustration. “I am so fed up of hearing you whine about that Stiles kid with the moles, nut up or shut up, Der. Ask him out, or move the _fuck_  on.”

Derek had been angry and mortified. The mere thought of walking up to Stiles and baring his soul was terrifying. It required more courage then Derek possessed. Yet Laura's comment rankled with him and the next day, still fizzing with anger over Laura's rebuke he had wandered over to Paige and asked her out instead.

He'd always been aware of Paige, there was something about her that almost reminded him of Stiles, although in many other ways the two were as far removed from each other as it was possible to be. Still, Derek had dated her, and he'd enjoyed it. They'd never really progressed beyond shy kisses and holding hands at school. After two months of that Paige emigrated to Canada with her family. He was sad to see her go, but not heartbroken. The fact was, they still kept in contact, their fledgling romance had cooled, and left in its wake a friendship. Once a month or so they would Skype, and they still texted each other regularly. As first romances go, it had been a good experience. The only thing souring it for him was that in a roundabout way, he had Laura to thank for it.

Five months after Paige left for Canada, Derek had been cornered by Kate Argent after a particularly successful Lacrosse game. Kate was in the year above him, and part of the most popular clique in the school. Derek was having a good couple of months, he'd had a sudden growth spurt and developed muscle definition. It also probably didn't hurt that his braces had come out and he'd also made co-captain of the Lacrosse team. People were starting to notice him.

Kate had dragged him under the bleachers after the game, and fixed with a smile that was all sharp teeth and cold glinting eyes. He'd felt a rush of excitement and apprehension. Ten minutes later he was standing there, flushed and glassy eyed, as she wiped his spunk from her hand on to a tissue with an expression of distaste. He had tucked his spent dick back in shorts in a daze, and she had fixed him with a predatory grin.

“We're dating now," She'd announced. Derek had just gone along with it.

It was two months of adrenaline fueled fumbles in janitors closets, under the bleachers and in the school basement. She held all the cards though. She refused point blank to go to his house, or have him back to hers.

“It's not that kind of relationship, Derek,” she used to say.

For two months he put up with her refusing to meet his family, talk to his friends or engage with him about his life in anyway, all in exchange for hurried hand-jobs and the dubious honor of being her boyfriend.

After the initial rush of excitement over someone who wasn't him touching his dick, the excitement had given way to frustration.

Eventually he'd dumped her.

She'd been furious. Almost immediately the school rumor mill went into overdrive and within half a day it was all around the school that she'd dumped him. Derek hadn't cared. His friends knew the truth. Boyd, Isaac and Erica had his back and he didn't give two shits what the rest of the world thought.

He'd said as much in the cafeteria the next day, while they sat with him eating lunch together.

Just then, Stiles and Scott had wandered by talking animatedly; Stiles gesticulating abortively as he tried to tell a story, while balancing a tray full of food. There was a bright beautiful smile on his face and Derek's heart stuttered in his chest. He trailed off, forgetting to rant about Kate, as his eyes tracked Stiles progress across the cafeteria.

Erica had nudged him and he started, looking up to see all three of his friends wearing a similar expression of incredulity.

“Stilinski, Derek? Seriously?” Erica had said skeptically.

All four of them turned as one to look back at Stiles who had promptly tripped over a chair leg, flailing wildly as he dropped his tray.

“Shit, Derek. Stilinski is what would happen if Bambi had become a teenager, but never really mastered walking.” Isaac bit out.

Derek had shrugged, his cheeks burning.

That was how his friends found out he was bisexual.

Erica had immediately made it her mission to try and get him to at least talk to Stiles. Derek's heart shriveled in his chest at the thought. It was safer this way. He'd rather have his daydreams and fantasies of Stiles then risk being rejected.

When Erica finally accepted that he wasn't ever going to ask Stiles out, she had began encouraging him to pursue other guys. In many ways she was worse then Laura.

“Seriously, Derek. I'm fed up with watching you pine over Stilinski. It's _painful._ Get out there and get your head in the game. It'll be good for you.”

In the end she'd convinced him into going to Jungle with her, and that was where he and Danny had hooked up for the first time. He had always known Danny was gay, but hadn't thought about taking things any further. After all, just because two people liked dick, didn't mean they were automatically going to like each other.

Danny had been comfortable though. He was a truly nice guy and they enjoyed each others company. Danny was his first boyfriend, he went on his first proper date with Danny and well... there were a whole lot of other firsts as well. They'd dated for about three months, and it had been fun, but it wasn't going anywhere. When he looked at Danny he was attracted to him, but there was no spark and they both knew it. So, when Danny had finally called it off, there had been no hard feelings. He still saw Danny at lacrosse practice and greeted him in the halls. It was fine.

The real benefit of dating Danny was that he had come out. Out to his friends, out to his whole family, out to the school, and that had felt good. He felt so much lighter being truthful about who he was. Maybe he would never get to date Stiles, how many people dated their High School crushes after all? But at least he was being true to himself now.

 

He'd been sitting alone in the cafeteria one day when Stiles approached him.

It was so totally unexpected, that at first Derek was convinced Stiles had the wrong person. He seemed to know just who Derek was though, and it was all Derek could do to play it cool.

Up close Stiles was just as beautiful as Derek remembered, barely restrained nervous energy and enthusiasm, bright brown eyes and cupids bow lips. He could feel his stomach swooping low just looking at him. He was just so _fucking perfect_.

Stiles was rambling on about wanting to ask him something and having things in common, and as he spoke, all Derek could think was: _Is this is it? Is this is finally happening?_   _Does Stiles like_  me?

When Stiles had asked if he was seeing anyone, Derek had felt a moment of pure elation, he could feel a smile of utter relief tugging at the corner of his mouth, just waiting to be unleashed. He was about to get the guy of his dreams.

For one beautiful moment the entire universe seemed to balance precariously, teetering on the sharpest of points, a brave, beautiful new world spread out before him for the taking, and then it had all come crashing down around him in ruins.

Stiles, his Stiles, was in love with  _Lydia Martin_.

Lydia Martin, scarily intelligent, gorgeous and intimidating.

There was no way Derek could ever compete.

Stiles didn't want to date Derek except as a means to an end.

Derek had heard people talk about the five stages of grief before. He sailed through them in under five minutes.

First came _denial_. Stiles couldn't be serious. This was all some kind of terrible joke.

However, Stiles was serious. Deadly serious and denial quickly gave way to _anger_. What the fuck kind of plan was this? Seriously? Stiles probably wasn't even bisexual, and there was no way that Derek was going to be Stiles gay experiment while he leveled up enough to bag Lydia Martin.

When Stiles assured him that he was in fact bisexual Derek felt all the fight drain out of him.

If he'd just listened to Laura or listened to Erica, if he'd just had the courage to ask Stiles out when he had the chance, he might have actually said yes. Now though, there was no way that would happen. Unless...

“What's in it for me?” He had asked hollowly.

Stiles had tried to bargain with him. He'd offered to tutor him in Chemistry. Which was something he probably needed, although more down to lack of effort then lack of ability. Would it be worth it all? To agree to Stiles plan just to have an excuse to be near him. Was that a _bargain_ he could make with himself? Was it possible that if he agreed to fake dates, if he let Stiles tutor him in Chemistry, that eventually Stiles would stop focusing on Lydia and see Derek? Would he finally notice him after all these years?

The more he thought about it though, the more _depressed_ he became. Of all the girls in school for Stiles to fixate on.

Lydia _fucking_  Martin. There was no way he was going to be able to convince Stiles to give her up. As tempting as the idea of spending time with Stiles was. As much as he wanted to get to know the guy. It would be insanity to say yes. He had to respect himself more then that. He had to _accept_ that this was never going to happen.

It was the most ridiculous plan in the history of the universe and he told Stiles as much. He'd been about to storm away, but as he stood up, Stiles hunched over, collapsing in on himself. He'd looked up at Derek with those freaking Bambi eyes and seemed so _miserable._ There was a kind of devastated resignation on his face. Derek couldn't leave him like that. Couldn't leave him unhappy.

Before he knew it he'd agreed to the whole thing. Fake relationship, Chemistry stuff. The works.

Fuck.

He was so screwed.

 

o0o

 

 

**I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**If you did maybe you will enjoy my other**[fics](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works). **Go on! Give them a try!**  
  
**If you spot any mistakes let me know, this work is unbeta'd and I'm always happy to correct stuff. Except formatting. I can do nothing about the formatting because AO3 hates me and if you mention it I may cry.**  
  
**Obviously if you like it enough to kudos or comment then that's fab too!**

 

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	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. It's been a while. Well, a week. I was finishing off my Sterek series and then I got a head cold. I'm still a bit muzzy headed to be honest but I've managed to write this anyway!

Stiles wakes up on Sunday and he still feels awesome. Seriously, like more then awesome actually, there needs to be a better word for it, because this is some next level shit. He just wants to walk into school tomorrow and shout, “I went on a date with Derek  _fucking_  Hale, suckers! We totally made out!” He can't stop thinking about it, he plays bits of it back in his mind on a loop, and every time he does he gets this stupid goofy grin on his face.

He thinks about how Derek got all excited talking about the Batman trilogy while they were eating at the diner, the adorable way Derek lisps ever so slightly when he speaks. He thinks about the way Derek had grinned, open and happy, when he totally cheated at Mortal Kombat, revealing the cutest little bunny teeth in the history of ever, which... I mean... fuck, how had Stiles not noticed them before now?

Let's not even get started on the goodnight kiss, the way Derek had been all hesitant and shit, in the lead up to it, and then just pulled him in grabbing fistfuls of Stiles t-shirt and... wham!

God.

Yeah.

He's totally going to have to rub one out in the shower this morning.

He might as well get out of bed and do that now actually.

And if he's thinking about Derek while he does it, then what of it? He basically just made out with the hottest guy in school.

It's allowed.

 

o0o

 

 

For the rest of the morning, he just kinda wants to call Derek, just to talk to the guy.  The need to do it is like an itch under his skin that he can't quite reach.

He tells himself that he just wants some feedback on how the date went. You know, things he did well, area's for improvement. Derek could do that for him right? It'd be no different to when Stiles explained stoichiometric coefficients to Derek the other day so...

Yeah...

He's definitely gonna text him. That would be okay, wouldn't it?

Or maybe he should call?

I mean, sometimes, if you're gonna have a big conversation, it's better to do it over the phone right. Like... just... easier? Plus it's definitely easier to interpret someone's tone if you can hear their voice. Texting is naturally terse, unless you start adding emoji's. That in itself is a whole thing though. Too many emojis and you might seem like a crazy person. 

Anyway gun to his head? Maybe he just kinda wants to hear Derek's voice again.

There's nothing strange about that, is there? After all, he and Scott skype all the time, and its nice to hear his voice too. So it's not like wanting to hear someones voice is weird or anything.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he dials Derek's number.

It rings twice before Derek picks up.

“Stiles?” Derek says, he sounds confused.

“Hey Derek," Stiles says brightly. “I was just calling to y'know, check in.”

“Check in?” Derek repeats back. Stiles can hear voices muttering in the background. Derek's obviously not alone, maybe this is a bad time.

“Yeah. I was just thinking, I had a good time last night. You know? I wanted to make sure you did too,” Stiles says, he's trying not to ramble. Is he rambling? He knows he does that sometimes.

There's a brief sound of scuffling on the other end of the phone and a hissed, “Get away, Laura.”

“Just a minute.” Derek says distractedly into the mouthpiece. Stiles can just make out sound of two people having a harsh whispered argument, although he can't hear what they're saying and then Derek says. “For fucks sake, Laur! I'm going to my room! Alone!”

Then he hears the sound of feet thudding up the stairs and a door slamming shut.

“Hey!” Derek says, kind of breathless. “Sorry about that. Fucking sisters.”

“It's fine!” Stiles says, “I get it. Well, sort of, I mean... I'm an only child... but I can imagine.”

Derek snorts derisiviely. “Sometimes I wish I was an only child," he mutters darkly.

“Really? I always wanted a brother or a sister, but I guess it wasn't meant to be.” Stiles trails off, a sudden wave of sadness washing over him. “I had Scott, I guess, he's like brother to me.” he says loyally, and it's true. He can't believe he could ever have had a brother who was as wonderful as Scott, and you know what the best thing is? They got to choose each other. They met in the sandbox when they were six years old and nothing, even Scott moving to Nevada will stop that bond. They are in it for life man.

Derek's silent for a moment. “You must really miss him," he says quietly.

Stiles nods, then remembers he's on the phone. “I do," he says fervently. Scott, his Mom, there's a whole list of important people Stiles misses so fucking much it hurts sometimes. Shit! When did this conversation become such a downer?

“So! I called you for a reason," Stiles says, mentally picking himself up and brushing himself off.

“About the date last night?” Derek asks.

“Yeah. Exactly. I thought it went pretty well. What do think?”

“I had a great time,” Derek says, he sounds sincere.

Stiles does a couple of fist pumps. “So I didn't screw up anything?” he presses. “Like, I wasn't weird or off-putting? You weren't ashamed to be seen with me?"

“No!” Derek sounds irritated and confused. “Why would you think that? Did it seem that way to you?”

“No!” Stiles says immediately, “but, honestly, I'm not always very good at reading people and I know some people find me annoying so I guess... I wanted to be sure. You can be honest with me. You know that right?”

“It was good, Stiles.” Derek says in a low voice. “I can't remember having a better time on a date. So stop worrying.”

Stiles feels his face splitting into a wide grin. He falls back, and stretches out on his bed, his free hand tucked behind his head. “Really?”

“I wouldn't lie.” Derek says defensively. “Did you like it?” he sounds almost as anxious as Stiles does. Which... what?

“Me? Oh yeah. I liked all of it. I mean the food was good and I liked the Arcade games, even though your a cheating cheater who cheats.”

Derek splutters indignantly. “I didn't cheat! You-” he starts to say.

Stiles barrels on, interrupting him. “I liked the... um... the kissing too. That was also, very... uh... good. Did you? Was I-?” Its out of his mouth before he's really thought about it and now he just wants to grab all the words and stuff them back in, but they're out there now, sounding all needy and vulnerable and shit.

There's a pause on the other end of the line. “That was good.” Derek says finally, in a quiet voice. “I liked that too.”

Stiles feels an enormous wave of relief crest and break over him. “Cool. Okay. So I didn't fuck that up too much, because I was worried, you know, that I might be really bad at it.” He laughs nervously.

“You didn't fuck it up at all,” Derek says more firmly this time. “You shouldn't worry about it. It was- You were good.” He pauses and then adds. “I mean if you want to practice some more, just so you could feel more comfortable or whatever, I would be... that would be something we could do... y'know. If you want to. Not that you have to... but I wouldn't mind doing that if you...”

“Yes!” Stiles responds. “Totally. Yes. I am so down with that dude. You can't even know.”

God. Derek is just so chill about this stuff. He really doesn't seem to mind helping a bro out. Seriously. He is so lucky Derek agreed to do this. He wonders whether Derek would be up for meeting again. Like, if he suggests that Derek comes over this afternoon, while his Dad's at work, would that be too much? Will he seem too desperate? It's just the thought of seeing Derek again... of getting to do that...

“I'm free this afternoon if you wanna come over,” he says before he can second guess himself.

“Yeah!” Derek says. “Yeah. I'll... let's do that."

 

 

o0o

 

 

**Sorry for the delay in posting. I was just finishing up my series and then I got a bad head cold and my brain felt like it was filled with cotton wool.**  
**Anywho! Here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy it. As always I love to hear from you guys so if you have any comments or concrit then let me know. It's unbeta'ed so if you see any glaring errors or Britishisms that have snuck through then tell me and I'll correct them.**  
  
**P.S Tyler Hoechlin's slight lisp is totally adorable... Hey! What do you mean you never noticed it?**  
  
**P.P.S Also I have other[fics](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works)! All of them filled with Stereky goodness, go check them out.**  
  
**P.P.P.S  I'm on[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo/) come join me as I flail around posting Sterek related stuff and anything else that catches my eye.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can haz tropes? 
> 
> This fic gets steadily more ridiculous but hopefully still lots of fun!
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments. Sorry the chapters are so short, but I am hellishly busy at the moment (trying to move house/being ill/other stuff I won't go into) I totally meant to write some amazing make out scene that would blow everyones collective mind, but then this happened. I would apologize but... meh. Some making out next time. I promise. I mean, I don't promise it'll blow your mind, but it will be there.

Stiles hurriedly tidies his room.

Sort of.

Well, he empties his wastepaper basket of incriminating tissues, and then he picks up all his dirty clothes and crams them in the washing machine. Finally he kicks the rest of the clutter under his bed. All in all it doesn't look too bad.

He's counting it as a win.

Everything counts as a win today.

He's going to make out with Derek again and it's going to be awesome.

Actually maybe he should clean his teeth and use some mouthwash? That's just good manners after all. Yeah, he better do that too.

After that he's feeling kinda pumped, but also kinda nervous, so he putters about for a bit, does some tidying, makes sure everything looks presentable downstairs as well. Only that gets him thinking. Does he need to make  _himself_  presentable  _downstairs_? I mean, he and Derek haven't really talked about going any further then kissing, but that doesn't mean Derek won't expect... Shit! Should he be engaging in some kind of man-scaping? Do people do that?

There are the nerves again, and not the good kind. Derek doesn't feel that way about him though, so he's probably not going to push for anything more then making out, right? Hopefully not. Stiles suddenly feels woefully unready for this whole thing.

He decides to abandon this whole train of thought. It's fucking with his mind and he doesn't need it. He needs to be zen. He ends up in the kitchen checking the freezer for snacks. They have hot pockets in, everyone likes hot pockets don't they? Besides its not like he agreed to actually feed Derek, but just in case it's good to know he has something to offer.

Shit. He is so fucking nervous, like he's getting ready to take a test.

He's just in the middle of pouring himself a glass of water to steady his nerves, when suddenly, the doorbell rings. He flails wildly in shock, dropping the water all over himself and the floor. He slips, arms windmilling out before catching himself, holding on to the kitchen counter for dear life. His t-shirt is soaked.

Well fuck.

The doorbell rings again.

“Coming!” He yells. Grabbing a fistful of kitchen towel and trying vainly to dab at the water on his t-shirt.

When he opens the door there's Derek looking amazing, the fucker. He has on a soft periwinkle blue henley which peeks out from beneath his leather jacket, and he's wearing those damn aviators again. He looks like he should be illegal.

Stiles scowls a little. It's just fucking unreasonable for one person to look this good. He probably didn't have to make any effort either. He probably just wakes up looking naturally sexy and artfully ruffled and then opens his bedroom window and forest animals descend upon him. They probably pick out his clothes for him, dressing him like a fucking Disney Princess, because he's just too pretty to resist.

What a bastard.

Derek's looking at him, one eyebrow raised a little. “Are you okay?” he asks. He looks confused. It's probably because Stiles is scowling at him. Stiles forces his face into a smile. It's more of a rictus grin actually.

Derek still looks a bit weirded out.

“Hi!” Stiles says,“You wanna come in?”

“Thanks.” Derek says, swallowing. He looks kind of nervous actually. God knows why. He walks past Stiles, and Stiles refuses to look at his ass. He's not even going to go there. Except... shit! Did someone paint those jeans on? Are they some kind of ultra skinny fit? Derek's balls must be begging for mercy right now.

Actually... for the sake of his own sanity its probably best if he doesn't think about Derek's balls at the moment. Seriously. That way madness lies.

“I just spilled water all over myself.” Stiles says, gesturing to his t-shirt. “I'm gonna go change. You wanna come upstairs?”

“Uh, sure?” Derek says uncertainly.

Why does it feel so awkward all of sudden?

Is it because they both basically agreed to meet up for the sole purpose of making out?

“You can wait down here if you prefer.” Stiles offers.

It's probable Derek doesn't want to see Stiles' skinny torso after all. Especially when he's totally ripped from lacrosse and bench pressing small children or whatever he does to get that built at seventeen. Standing together shirtless they'll basically be like a visual representation of Steve Rogers before and after the serum. Nobody wants that. At least, nobody wants to see him. Stiles wouldn't mind seeing Derek... not that Stiles is expecting to see under Derek's shirt today. I mean... that would just be... who would want that... who...

His brain temporarily goes off line. His jaw is slack. There might be drool.

“Stiles?” Derek says cautiously. “Are you okay?”

He swears he hears his brain play the Windows 7 startup music as it comes back online.

“There are hot pockets,” he blurts manically. “In the freezer.”

Derek looks confused. This is a disaster. Damn it! He is such a loser. You can't just throw hot pockets in to the conversation. They're not a sexy food! Probably. The name is ambiguous, it could be sexy but it also kinda sounds like someone accidentally microwaved their jacket. That's not sexy. That's just incompetent! What's a sexy food? Fuck!

“And cool whip in the fridge.” Stiles says wincing as he says it. Is that sexier? Maybe? It could be sexy. Probably.

Derek looks around in confusion. Like he's expecting someone to shout out 'Smile! You're on Candid Camera!'

“So," he says carefully, like he's speaking to a small child. “My options are... come upstairs while you change your shirt. Or stay in the kitchen and eat hot pockets and cool whip?” He sounds genuinely bemused.

Stiles can't really blame him unfortunately, there really is only one way to save this car crash of a conversation. “I happen to like that combination," Stiles lies valiantly. “Don't you?”

Derek looks vaguely horrified. “No.”

“Your loss then," Stiles says, shrugging airily. “Well if you're not hungry, you might as well come up.” He turns and makes his way upstairs.

Fuck.

He has seen the future. At some point this afternoon he is going to be forced to eat Philly-steak and cheese hot pocket smothered in cool whip. His stomach clenches painfully at the thought of it.

 

 

o0o

 

 

 **I didn't think this fic could get any more ridiculous, but would you look at that, it totally did.**  
  
**The brain/windows reboot thing is from a scene in the**[IT Crowd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_95XVJgXsaE). It was just too funny not to include, but credit where it's due, that particular joke wasn't originally one of mine.  
  
**As always I have more**[fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/pseuds/yodasyoyo/works) here. (It's not like this fic, but it is Sterek. My other fics are probably, technically, better quality then this fic, but this fic is more fun.) I'm also on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo) reblogging things that make me laugh/cry/swoon. Come say hi!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrgghh... the feels... the feels *clutches chest, falls over*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look - it's almost got a plot now (but not really), and some feels, and this was a semi-decent chapter length. Thanks to all of you who take the time to read, comment and add kudos. It means loads. 
> 
> This work is unbeta'd so if you spot any errors (or british-isms) feel free to point them out. I do really appreciate it!

Stiles goes upstairs, with Derek trailing behind him. He can't believe how badly this is going. What is it about Derek that makes him unable to articulate a simple sentence without turning it into the conversational equivalent of an international disaster?

He can see the headlines now on CNN, famine, plague, war and in other news, Stiles Stilinski is still tragically unable to hold a conversation with a human being that he finds attractive. Kind grannies in the Midwest will be sending him care packages, and knitting him patchwork quilts so that he keeps warm on his long cold nights alone.

If he can't talk to Derek, how is ever going to talk to Lydia? He's probably going to have to buy a lot of cats and make his peace with the fact that he's going to be single for a long long time. Maybe he should open some kind of cat sanctuary. He could call it Pussies Galore, in honor of his Dad's favorite Bond film.

Dejectedly he makes his way into his bedroom.

“You can sit on the bed if you want,” he says, wandering over to his drawer to dig out a t-shirt.

Without thinking he pulls the wet t-shirt over his head, screws it up in a ball and sends it sailing across the room into the laundry basket.

“He shoots! He Scores!” he says turning to Derek with a smile.

Derek is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You can come in dude!” Stiles says. “Sit on my bed if you want.”

Derek's face is crimson, he's looking everywhere in the room except at Stiles now... which... okay, Stiles isn't ripped but he doesn't look that bad does he? I mean, is he really so unattractive that Derek can't bear to look at him?

“Sorry.” Stiles mumbles, “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'll just...” he fumbles with his t-shirt pulling it on awkwardly and patting it straight.

Derek scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, he seems nervous and he's looking at Stiles bed, with a strange expression on his face, like he can't quite believe it's there.

“Did you think I slept upside down in my closet?” Stiles quips. Its a poor joke, but covering uncomfortable moments with humor is basically his M.O.

Derek's eyes flick over to him furtively and then he grins a little. “No. I guess I just... never thought I'd be here.”

“Here in my room?” Stiles presses curiously, because that's kind of a weird thing to say, but then Derek is a weird dude. Sarcastic, competitive, sweet, built like a brick shit house, but also... kinda weird.

Derek chooses not to answer the question, instead he wanders a little further into Stiles bedroom. “I like that picture," he says absently, pointing to one that's framed on the wall above Stiles desk.

Stiles comes over to stand next to him. “Yeah?” Stiles smiles. “That's me, my Dad and my Mom at the park in town when I was little. We used to go there all the time together, until...” he trails off. “You probably know this already, but my Mom died of fronto-temporal dementia when I was ten,” he admits.

“I knew, I didn't know how or when... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...” Derek looks mortified, like he's regretting pointing at the picture, or bringing the subject up, which is unacceptable. That picture hangs above his desk for a reason damn it.

“Don't be," Stiles says fiercely. “She's my Mom. I want to remember her. I like talking about her. She will always be massively important, and I love her... I miss her. I miss her every fucking day," he says, his voice softening a little. “But I miss her more when people pretend like she never existed, just so they don't feel awkward around my grief.” He rubs a hand through his hair awkwardly. “Sorry. This got real serious, real quick.”

Derek smiles, soft and unsure. “Tell me something about her,” he says.

Stiles grins and his eyes skitter over to the photograph, his mother smiling out at him from the frame and it all just sort of pours out of him. “She was funny. Like really funny, funnier than anyone else I've ever known. She used to make my Dad and I laugh so much. She was kind, she cared about things y'know but in a good way, she wasn't a doormat, she was always ready to stand up for what was right. She was intelligent, she went to Stanford," he sighs. “She was untidy, my Dad did all the housework, still does, but she was a good cook, the best. I haven't eaten a good meal in nearly eight years," he shrugs, balling his hands into fists and shoving them into his pockets. “Basically she's irreplaceable. For both of us.” His eyes slide back to Derek uncertainly. “Sorry,” he says, a lump burning in his throat. “This isn't what you came round for.”

Derek reaches out a hand, and places it on his shoulder gently. “I came round to see you," he says simply.

Just like that. Like its easy. Like there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

Stiles heart skips a beat. He snorts. “Nice line, Hale."

They seem to have gone off script here and its confusing. He's not sure what to say.

“Not a line if its true," Derek says, shrugging, he's blushing again, but he looks sincere.

If someone had told him a week ago how sweet Derek Hale could be he wouldn't of believed them.

Impulsively Stiles leans forward and kisses Derek on the cheek. It shouldn't be a big deal. Derek's kissed him a couple of times now, but somehow this is different, the atmosphere between them changes immediately. He can feel the tension bleeding off Derek as he leans back a little and glances at him.

He bites his lip nervously, searching Derek's face for answers. Did he go too far? Is this not part of their arrangement?

Derek is staring at him, lips parted, skin flushed.

The moment hangs between them.

It thrums, expands until Stiles feels like his whole body is buzzing with anticipation.

They're so close, Stiles can feel Derek's breath on his cheek. Without letting himself think about it too much he leans forward again, closing the small gap between them.

Derek's lips are warm and soft. He's shaved today, so there's no stubble, and for a moment Stiles mourns it's loss, but then Derek makes a tiny little cut off moan in the back of his throat, like it's been forced out of him. Stiles forgets about stubble then, forgets about everything except the sensation of Derek's lips on his and then it gets even better because Derek's responding. Derek's hand is reaching up, and running through Stiles hair, while the other curls round his waist and pulls them closer together.

Stiles knows he's not the best at this, not because he couldn't be good, but just because he hasn't had a lot of practice, but he also knows he's a fast learner. So he mirrors some of Derek's actions, brings his own hand up to card through the short hairs at the nape of Derek's neck, runs his fingers idly through that thick, black, surprisingly soft hair.

Derek leans back a little. Breaking the kiss and leans his forehead against Stiles', breathing hard.

“Was that okay?” Stiles whispers. He doesn't want to ruin the mood, but he's so fucking nervous right now. This is basically the hottest thing that has ever happened to him.

Derek gives a strangled little laugh. “Yeah.” he says, “yeah, you're... you're good.” He burrows his head in the crook of Stiles neck and inhales before dropping kisses along it and then nipping playfully at his ear.

“You're amazing," he mumbles, into the soft skin at the base of Stiles neck, like its a secret.

Stiles can feel himself trembling with anticipation. “So are you," he says truthfully.

Derek's lips seek out his again and this time his tongue probes gently along the seam of Stiles mouth and he opens it easily.

He'd always wondered about tongues. How good could it actually be to mash two people's tongues together? As it turns out, the answer to that is, pretty fucking good.

Because its not just mashing tongues together, its a whole range of things, from teasing kittenish licks, to urgent desperate thrusts and a whole mess of things in between.

He starts off trying to catalogue the sensations, the techniques, emulate them and then file them away for future use. In the end it's useless. There's too much, and before long every single one of his senses is overloaded. The look of Derek, the touch of his skin, the taste of him, the smell of his soap and the little bitten off sounds and gasps he makes, like this is as good for him as it is for Stiles, its all too overwhelming. In the end all Stiles can do is cling on for dear life and reciprocate as best he can, but it's natural, it's good and the more he does it the more he relaxes into it. Gradually he stops worrying about it and second guessing himself, and starts enjoying it. Before he knows it their stumbling backwards, a tangled mess of limbs, bodies, slick lips and hot breath, tumbling, tangled and laughing onto the bed.

Its Derek who breaks off the kiss. Leaning back and panting heavily. Like he's just finished a lacrosse game.

Stiles almost whines in frustration.

“Give me a minute.” Derek says. “We just... give me a minute.”

“Why?” Stiles asks. “Wasn't it good?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Stiles. It was good. So good, that if we don't stop now... I won't want to stop later.” He glances down at his own crotch and Stiles follows his gaze.

Oh.

Well.

That's encouraging.

Stiles almost reaches out a hand to touch the hard ridge of Derek's dick. He can see it clearly, it looks almost painful because of Derek's ridiculous jeans are so damn tight. It's alluring, captivating, and suddenly he's really curious to know what it would feel like, wants to know the weight of it in his hand.

He's kind of nursing a semi himself actually, now he thinks about it. It's scraping impatiently against his own jeans and he can't believe how distracting this experience has been. How could he not realize he was hard?

Derek's untangling himself and sitting up, and reluctantly Stiles follows suit.

 _You've got to stop._ Stiles reminds himself. _Dereks just doing this because you asked him to, because you offered to tutor him in Chemistry. He wouldn't be doing this otherwise, so don't take advantage. He only offered extra practice because he's such a nice guy, because he knows how much you want Lydia._

_Lydia._

For the first time in his life, Stiles dick softens thinking about her. That's what this is all about though, and lest he forget, _Derek has a Lydia._

Derek's probably not even thinking about him, while there doing this. Derek's probably secretly pining for whichever idiot it is that won't date him.

There's a sour sensation in the pit of Stiles stomach now, and he grimaces. They're sitting side by side on Stiles bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. He knows what he needs to do. He's going to do the right thing by Derek. He has to.

He promised Derek he would help him get his Lydia, and while Derek doesn't want to give Stiles a name, he owes it to Derek to try and help it happen. Maybe he could test the water, see if there's anything he could do.

“So...” he begins, “I know you don't want to tell me who it is that you like... who your Lydia equivalent is,” he begin stiltedly, “But I wanna help you dude. I want you to...” he trails off. Derek's expression is guarded.

“I don't...” Derek begins. “I'm not sure it's something you can help me with Stiles,” he says finally. “There's nothing you can do about it.”

Stiles grimaces. That's a cockslap if ever there was one. “Okay. I mean. I don't wanna push, I know we're not great friends or anything, but I just want you to know. I care about you dude, and even if you just wanna talk about it. I could listen. I'm a good listener. That's all...” he trails off hopelessly.

Derek's jaw works soundlessly for a moment a myriad of emotion flickering across his face. “I... It's silly really," he begins. “I kind of met this guy when I was young, like maybe nine, and from the moment I saw him I felt something. I don't think I really realized what it meant at that point, it was just a connection.” He blushes and looks down at his hands. “I didn't see him again for ages, but as soon as I did, it was just there again. This feeling here," he gestures to his stomach. “I couldn't... I didn't know...” he trails off. “At first I just thought I wanted to be friends with him... but then I realized friendship wasn't going to be enough.” He looks furtively at Stiles.

Stiles gave him a small smile of encouragement. This is good, Dereks finally starting to trust him. "What happened?” he prompted.

“He had a friend, a really good friend and I never really managed to make him notice me because he was always around this guy. I was so fucking jealous," he laughs hollowly. “I mean it's not like they were dating, but they were so tight. I don't think he ever really saw me.”

“Did you ever make a move?” Stiles asks, half dreading the answer, and not sure why.

Derek blushed. “I wanted to, but I was nervous, in the end he approached me, and I thought it was all going to work out, but it turned out he was in love with someone else.” He looks away listlessly. “So that's that,” he finishes wit a hopeless shug. 

Fuck.

That just sucks.

What a shituation.

I mean...

Stiles brain whirs, ticking over the information. He can't help it, but without really trying he's putting two and two together.

Derek dated Danny for a bit.  
  
Derek must have liked him to do that.

Danny is super close friends with Jackson.

Danny broke up with Derek and almost immediately started dating Ethan.

Fuck, It kind of all makes sense. At least it seems to.

_Danny Mahealani is Derek's Lydia._

He looks across at Derek, the guy looks utterly miserable, his head in his hands, and Stiles heart just melts. It must be awful to watch the person you love leave you for someone else. That's just...

God...

He wraps an arm around Derek in a hug and the guy just sinks into it like he can't help himself. Stiles wraps his arms around him tightly and drops a kiss on to the top of his head before he can stop himself.

He knows one thing for sure.

If he was lucky enough to ever date Derek for real? He'd never let him go.

 

o0o

 

 

 **More examples of my Sterek fic can be found[here!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works)  
** **I am also on[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo), come say hi!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now comes with asshole!Jackson and Protective!Derek. For your reading pleasure.
> 
> P.S. To The Horrid Truth - I think this counts as balls. Doesn't it? A little bit at least.

He lies on his bed after Derek leaves lost in thought.

Is it possible to like two people at once?

Is it?

Because Stiles does. He totally does, and he doesn't know what to do.

When he started this plan it had all been so clear. Lydia Martin was his soul mate. She was a beautiful, perfect, angel with strawberry blonde hair and dimples. She was a fiercely intelligent, ambitious, math genius. She was everything that he ever wanted, he'd been telling himself that for _years_. He was going to put himself on her radar, he was going to do whatever it took to get her to notice him, because they would be _so_ good together. He just _knew_ it.

Then Derek Hale had to come along and _confuse the plan_. Derek was only supposed to be a means to an end. It was supposed to be a mutually beneficial relationship, like a business arrangement. Derek was going to pretend to date him, and in return Stiles would tutor him in Chemistry. That's all for fucks sake! Why did Derek have to go and be all awesome and shit?

Derek's not Lydia. He's not scarily intelligent, but he's not stupid. He's actually really clever in his own right. He's not ambitious, at least not in the same way that Lydia seems to be, but he is endearingly competitive at games. He's not got Lydia's soft curves, porcelain skin and strawberry blonde hair. Instead, he's all hard lines and muscle, scratchy stubble and swarthy skin, but it turns out Stiles likes that stuff. Likes it as much as the Lydia stuff.

Maybe even a little bit more. (He feels like a traitor for even thinking it.)

It's not just that stuff though, Derek is sweet and kind, he loves his family. He encouraged Stiles to talk about his Mom and he actually _listened_ when Stiles did. He's been really supportive every step of the way, and whenever Stiles had been nervous about fake dating or his inexperience, he's gone out of his way to make Stiles felt better. Derek even likes his Spiderman t-shirt for fucks sake. That's just...

Would Lydia _do_ any of that stuff?

Maybe.

Stiles doesn't know.

He doesn't know, because he doesn't really know her well enough.

 _He doesn't really know her well enough._  
  
The truth of that thought hits him like a freight train.

He doesn't really _know_ her at all. Just facts. Things he's observed and hoarded obsessively over the years. Tantalizing clues about who she might be, but he doesn't really _know_ her.

Less then a week of hanging out with Derek and he already knows far more about who he is as a person then he does about Lydia. How is that possible? Its true though.

I mean, if he ever actually had a proper conversation with Lydia, he'd probably find out all kinds of cool things about her too. She probably _loves_ Spiderman, she probably secretly buys comic books, plays WoW at the weekends and spends her free time reading to the elderly. It sounds implausible, but it could be true. He just doesn't _know_ yet.

Anyway comparing Derek and Lydia isn't really fair, because he's made out with Derek. That was pretty awesome and is probably influencing his judgement. Maybe, he reasons, he's only confused because he's not made out with Lydia yet, maybe if he got the chance to do that...

He tries thinking about it, what Lydia would be like, smiling at _him,_ holding _his_ hand, leaning in to kiss _his_ mouth. It should be easy, he's pictured it a thousand times before, but for some reason he just can't seem to visualize it, and when he closes his eyes it's Derek's eyes he sees sparkling at him. It's Derek's hand he wants to reach for. It's Derek's mouth he wants to kiss, and not just his mouth, he wants to touch him. He wants to run his hands all over him, wants to discover every single inch of skin, the places that make him gasp and moan, the ticklish spots... all of it. He wants to snuggle up on his bed with Derek and have a massive Netflix marathon while it's raining outside. He wants to make Derek smile, wants to make him laugh and he wants to hold him when he cries. He wants to go to parties with him and dance badly to stupid songs. He wants to look across a room full of people to see Derek looking back at him, smiling, soft, sure and only for him. He wants...

He wants...

His has his hands stuck down his pants palming his dick before he's even conscious of what he's doing. He stops in shock though when realizes. He isn’t  _supposed_ to start jacking off thinking about a relationship with Derek Hale. He's supposed to be thinking about Lydia. He's in love with Lydia for goodness sake. She's his soul mate. Isn't she?

For the second time in his life his dick starts to soften at the thought of Lydia Martin.

Fuck.

Fuck!

He doesn't like two people.  
  
He likes one person.

He likes Derek Hale.

Well that's a _fucking disaster._

 

o0o

 

He's on the verge of a panic attack by the time he gets to school the next morning. Should he cancel the fake dating thing with Derek? It seems shady to keep doing it now he knows he's actually interested in Derek. If he does that though, he probably won't get to hang out with Derek any more and he _wants to._ He wants to get to know Derek as well as he possibly can.

He's very aware that Derek wants Danny, but Danny seems happy dating Ethan. Is it wrong to think that if he can just be a good enough fake boyfriend, Derek might forget about Danny and start thinking about him instead? Is it?

Maybe he should just be up front about it with Derek. Honesty is the best policy. That's a thing people say right? They wouldn't say it if it weren't true.

 _What's the worst that could happen?_ He thinks as he wanders over to his locker. _Derek might be uncomfortable spending time together if he knows. He might think its better to stop hanging out, and he already has friends, so you probably won't see much of him if that happens._ That thought settles like a lead weight in his stomach.

He's so busy worrying about it while he fiddles about opening his locker, that he doesn't hear Derek coming up behind him at all, doesn't notice anything at all, until...

“Hey!” Derek says, reaching out a hand to clasp his shoulder. “You okay?”

Stiles looks over, and his breath catches in his throat. Derek's just standing there, wearing his letterman jacket, his hair looking soft, his eyes warm and anxious, a fond smile on his face. Yeah... this probably makes him a terrible person, but he can't, he can't tell the truth. He can't give Derek up.

“Uh, yeah?” he says uncertainly.

Derek squeezes his shoulder. “Are you sure? You look a bit pale.” He's looking at Stiles with undisguised concern now.

“I'm okay.” Stiles responds. Derek's so close. It makes Stiles shiver with want.

“Are you cold?” Derek says, misinterpreting Stiles reaction. “Here. You should wear this.” He shrugs off his letterman jacket and places it over Stiles shoulders.

He's not cold, but Stiles slips into it easily without thinking, Derek's a bit broader then him, so it's a little baggy, but there's not much between them height wise. He sniffs it surreptitiously and grins.

“Sorry,” Derek says blushing. “It shouldn't smell too bad, its clean and...”

“It smells good,” Stiles says grinning at him like a loon. “It smells like you. I like it.”

A small, pleased smile breaks out on Derek's face, his bunny teeth just visible, and Stiles melts a little. Without thinking he leans in and kisses Derek gently on the cheek. As he draws back he can see Derek's blushing, but not in an embarrassed way. He looks happy. He looks happy and _Stiles did that_. He made Derek happy. Maybe its not crazy to try and have a chance with Derek. Maybe he _should_ just tell the truth... because that look on Derek's face now? When he sees that he almost believes he might be in with a shot.

“Hale!” The moment between them is broken, and Stiles cringes as he realizes who's coming towards them. 

Fucking Jackson Whittemore. He's never particularly liked Jackson. Mostly because he has this on again off again relationship with Lydia, but also because he's an asshole. Stiles panics for a second about what to do. Does Derek want to be seen with him around Jackson? Should he just make himself scarce?

The smile slides off Derek's face as Jackson approaches, but he loops his arm possessively around Stiles shoulder, effectively pinning him to the spot.

“Whittemore,” Derek grits out. “What can I do for you?”

Jackson's gaze flicks between Derek and Stiles, his eyebrows gradually disappearing into his hairline. His says nothing but there's a judgmental sneer on his face when he finally speaks, “We need to talk about tactics for the game this weekend.”

“Well. We can do that after school then, can't we? When we actually have a lacrosse practice. I'll see you later.” Derek starts to walk away, arm still clenched tightly round Stiles.

Jackson looks annoyed. “We need to talk _now,"_ he snaps, grabbing Derek's arm to stop them leaving and pulling him back.

Derek glares furiously first at Jackson's hand, and then up at Jackson's face. Jackson takes the hint and releases his arm angrily. “I'm _busy_ now," Derek says dangerously. “We'll talk later.”

Jackson snorts in annoyance. “Busy doing what exactly?” he calls out viciously, as Derek and Stiles stalk by him. “Going to pity-fuck Stilinski? I suppose someone had to eventually, but Hale, even you can do better than that.”

Stiles feels his his face heat, he's utterly mortified, he feels sick. Sick to the pit of his stomach. People are turning to look in the corridor, they're laughing. Oh God. This is like some kind of nightmare.

Derek lets go of him for a moment and pivots on his heel to face Jackson. Without the warm line of Derek's body along side his, he feels exposed, bereft. He hugs the letterman jacket to himself and tries to disappear.

“What did you say?” Derek grinds out. He looks pale and furious.

Jackson takes a step closer. “I was saying, that may be you should prioritize our lacrosse game this weekend over fucking Stilinski for charity, or whatever it is you _think_ your doing.”

There's a moment, just one fleeting second of complete and utter silence as every single person in the corridor holds their breath, waiting to see what's going to happen next.

Then without warning Derek punches Jackson square in the face. 

Jackson crumples to the floor, blood erupting from his nose as people rush forward. “Wha 'd fuh?” Jackson screams angrily, clutching at his face. His voice distorted by what looks like a broken nose.“Wha 'd fuh Der'k?” Derek shakes his fist, wincing in pain.

“You stay away from me, you worthless piece of shit," Derek hisses. “And stay away from my boyfriend too.” With that he turns on his heel, grabs Stiles arm and marches them both down the corridor and away.

 

o0o

 

Like this? Check out my other [Sterek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works) fics!  
Also I'm on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo)!  
Also kudos and comments are all very much appreciated. I *squee* over them every single time.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn that feelings are best communicated through words and not dick semaphore. Also Laura is a badass. Seriously. Don't piss her off... she will find you. She will hunt you down and it will not be pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to The Horrid Truth who proof read this chapter for me. I then preceded to fiddle about and edit things and add sentences because I'm an addict and I can't help picking at my own work, so if there are any mistakes left in this work they're all on me :-)
> 
> All kudos, comments and concrit gratefully received.

Stiles lets himself be led back through the school in a daze. He can't fucking believe what just happened. He feels completely numb.

But as they walk, it slowly begins to sink in.

Oh God.

Jackson implied the only reason that Derek would be with Stiles was pity, that fucking him would be an act of charity. Is that what everyone thinks? Is that really how this relationship is going to be perceived? Is the idea of them being a couple really that implausible? Derek hadn't seemed to think so when they first started this whole thing, and for a few glorious moments this week Stiles had started to believe that he was right.

 _The truth is Derek was never going to ask you out though._ His mind offers treacherously. _The truth is the only reason Derek agreed to this plan is because you offered to help him with his Chemistry grade. He wanted his place on the Lacrosse team. Don't forget that. He wouldn't have looked twice at you if you hadn't made him do it. You're no Danny Mahealani, so don't kid yourself._

He shakes his head trying to dismiss those thoughts, trying to squash his insecurities, but they're there now, burrowing into his brain and making him doubt himself.

They are good together aren't they? He isn't just imagining that, Derek seemed to enjoy himself last week. He hadn't been faking _that_ at least. Stiles is  _almost_ sure of it.

_Derek's a nice guy, that's all, don't read to much into it. Nobody would really want you._

He gnaws at this lip, his stomach twisting into knots. He doesn't know what to feel, can't seem to take anything in. In his heart he knows he would be good to Derek though. If this relationship were real, he would look after him, cherish him, he would put everything into being the boyfriend Derek deserved to have, if Derek would let him.

Derek turns abruptly into a restroom near the science block, and drags Stiles in after him. Its deserted, this place doesn't see much use, well not at this time in the morning anyway.

Stiles stumbles through the door, his knees feel like jello and his hands are shaking. Derek finally lets go of his arm and goes over to the sink. He turns on the tap and winces, rinsing his hand under the water.

That makes Stiles snap out of it. After all, whatever else has gone down, when it counted Derek defended him, without question or hesitation. That _has_ to mean something, he tells himself. It _has_ to mean _something_.

“Hey!” he says, "Let me see." He rushes over in concern, his own worries temporarily forgotten.

“S'okay,” Derek says gruffly, but he allows Stiles to take his hand and cradle it gently in his own.

The knuckles look a little red, like they might bruise at some point and he's scraped some skin, but otherwise it seems okay.

“Does it hurt?” Stiles asks, rubbing his thumb across the back of Derek's hand in soothing circles.

“A bit,” Derek admits. He's staring at Stiles now. He has that weird, intense look on his face. Stiles is never quite sure what it means.

“Sorry," Stiles says. Its out of his mouth before he can check himself, but he wants to say it. He has to.

“What for?” Derek says, confused.  
  
“It just... it feels like this is all my fault.” Stiles says unhappily.

“What? Why would you say that?" Derek spits angrily, “Jackson's the one who started this, he's the one who said...” He seethes, trailing off and Stiles shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Jackson ran his mouth off. I threw the first punch,” Derek says finally. “Stiles, there is no way _any_ of this is your fault.”

“I talked you into fake dating me," Stiles says. “You would never have been in this position if I hadn't come up with that ridiculous plan so I could...” He doesn't want to finish the sentence. He can't even bring himself to mention Lydia's name, she's so far from being what he wants right now. “Jackson's right, you can do better then me, everyone knows it. I know it. This stupid plan was never gonna work anyway, it wasn't remotely plausible, I just hope this doesn't get you into too much trouble,” Stiles says, his shoulders sagging, he feels so fucking sad.

Derek looks stricken, “Stiles, that's not true.” he blurts out. “Jackson isn't right. Honestly, you have to know that. It isn't-” he has a familiar, haunted expression on his face, and the tips of his ears turn pink. “I- anyone would be a fool not to want to date you Stiles. I chose to agree to this plan, you didn't force me and I didn't do it out of pity, it was never about that,”

He reaches forward and cups Stiles cheek gently with his uninjured hand, Stiles resists leaning into it. “Jackson's an asshole," Derek says, "he doesn't know what he's talking about. Pity you? Fuck! It was anything but that. If you just _knew_ how much I-” he trails off, and laughs humorlessly. He seems skittish, his gaze skims the room, settling anywhere except Stiles face.

“How much you what?” Stiles asks, curious in spite of himself.

Derek doesn't answer, but he finally meets Stiles eyes. He swallows and his gaze drops down, snagging on Stiles lips, sticks there, like he can't help himself. Stiles heart flutters madly in his chest. Before he can stop himself he leans in fractionally, Derek's breath is a wisp of heat against his cheek.

They're so close. So achingly close.

“How much you what, Derek?” Stiles repeats in a whisper.

“Fuck.” Derek exhales, reaches out and tugs Stiles in, closing the short distance between them to kiss him. His bruised hand slips round Stiles waist and pulls him in tightly, his body a firm line of heat against Stiles own. Stiles goes easily, willingly. He's not sure now whether this is real or some kind of adrenaline high after the drama of the morning, but he's in no state to refuse it, he's not even gonna try.

It's nothing like when they've kissed before, there's an urgency to it, a desperation, and Stiles pours everything he can into it, every fear, every insecurity, every hope, every dream. He can't say what he feels, can't bring himself to that point. He doesn't want to run the risk of rejection, but he can do this. He can do this, and hope that somehow Derek gets the message.

They stumble back and soon the small of Stiles back is pressed against the cool porcelain of the sink. He's hard in his jeans now and he can feel Derek is too. He's not sure who starts it, but soon they're grinding up against each other, chasing friction, gasping for air, hands groping for any inch of skin they can touch. It's further then Stiles has ever gone. It's too much too soon, and not enough all at the same time.

Reluctantly he pulls back to catch his breath. He needs to stop and gather himself, because what they're doing now is massive, but he doesn't want to do this with Derek if it isn't real. It means something to him and he needs it to mean something to Derek too. 

Derek looks wrecked. His cheeks flushed, his eyes wide, pupils blown. His lips are spit slicked and rosy. He's never looked more fucking beautiful.

“S-sorry,” he stutters. He looks haunted, ashamed almost, like maybe he feels he's taken advantage of Stiles in some way.

“No! No, I-” Stiles starts.

The door to the restroom crashes open and Stiles and Derek whip their heads round to see who it is. Danny and Laura are standing in the open doorway.

“Aha!” says Laura gleefully. “I fucking knew where you'd be.” She wrinkles her nose. “God. A restroom? Really Der? You wait all this time and... a restroom?”

Stiles chances a look at Derek. He's blushing furiously and he looks pissed as hell. Neither of them are quite at the state where they can risk separating just yet. Although it turns out nothing kills a boner quicker then your crushes sister and ex turning up together. Who knew?

“What are you doing here?” Derek grits out. Eyes narrowing as he looks at Laura. “This is a men's room.”

“Really? I can't see any. No offence,” she spits, with an apologetic glance at Stiles. Derek huffs angrily and Laura grins, “Anyway, we're looking for you, dumbass. Everyone's looking for you.”

Derek disentangles himself from Stiles without a second glance. “Jackson went crying to a teacher did he?” he grumbles.

Danny looks at him disapprovingly. “It looks like Jackson has a broken nose, Der. Its not like you left him with much choice.”

Derek has the grace to look a little ashamed. “He asked for it," he says petulantly.

Danny steps forward, rolling his eyes. “He's always running his mouth off,” he says quietly, his gaze touches for a second on Stiles. “You don't usually let it get to you.”

“It was different this time,” Derek says tightly, looking at Danny. “He crossed a line.”

They gaze at each other, engaging in some kind of silent communication and Stiles heart sinks.

Danny.

One minute with Danny in the room and suddenly he may as well not be here at all. He fiddles with the cuff of Derek's letterman jacket, feeling self conscious. This has all been a horrible mistake. There's no way he can ever compete with Danny.

“The principal wants to see you, Der.” Laura says, seriously. “I think you might be about to lose your place on the lacrosse team. At least.”

Derek scrubs a hand through his hair, “Shit!” he says angrily.

Danny slings an arm round his shoulders and squeezes, “Come on. You better go face the music. Maybe we can talk them round. Yeah? I'll speak to Jackson. The longer you hide out here, the worse it's gonna be.”  
  
Derek sighs, “Fine.” He turns to Stiles awkwardly. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not quite looking Stiles in the eye. “I better go.” Stiles nods, arms folded defensively across his chest.

“Sure," he says, hoping his voice sounds stronger then he feels. “I'll talk to you later.”  
  
Derek nods absently as Danny herds him out of the door.

Stiles scrubs a trembling hand through his hair. He can feel hot angry tears, pricking at the corner of his eyes. It was all going so well, and now? Now he's all alone again. Naturally.

He pulls the jacket tightly round himself and makes to leave the bathroom. He's forgotten about Laura though. She sticks a hand out to stop him as he passes, grabbing his forearm in a vice like grip.

“So,” she says with a sharp smile. “Stiles, isn't it? I think we need to have a little talk.”

“About what?” Stiles asks. Something about the way she's looking at him makes him feel like prey. Its taken millions of years of evolution for humanity to get to this point, and every highly evolved cell in Stiles body is screaming that he needs to run, run from the scary predator.

“About my brother.” She smiles, there are too many teeth.

Involuntarily Stiles takes a step back, “Wh-what about him?” he squeaks. It's a manly squeak. Full of testosterone.

“Let's start with how you two got together.” She says, eyes glittering. “Tell me the story. I wanna hear it.”

His mind goes blank. They had a thing didn't they, a whole story agreed. He definitely remembers discussing it with Derek. Fuck! He's sure they did, but now standing here with Laura's wolfish grin unnerving him, he can't even remember his own name.

Oh shit.

What's his name.

What's his fucking name?

“Stiles!” he blurts out with relief.

A look of confusion flickers across Laura's face, “What?” she says, bewildered.

“Sorry,” Stiles says, blushing horribly. “Its just... you make me nervous.”

She smiles, bright and sharp, “Do I now? Excellent, that's good to know.” Laura gives a pleased nod and sniggers. Stiles shuffles uncomfortably, and her expression softens, "I've decided I like you Stiles.”

He doesn't know what to do with that statement. He feels a little like she's a great white shark and he's the idiot who decided to go scuba diving without the shark proof cage. "Do you like me as a person, or as a tasty snack between meals?" he jokes weakly.

She rolls her eyes and loops an arm through his, “Don't be silly Stiles. Now tell me how my little baby brother asked you out. Assuming he did of course. I want to hear _all_ about it.”  
  
He doesn't mean to, in some ways it feels like a betrayal, but he's so desperate for someone, anyone to talk to, that once he starts, it all comes pouring out. His long term crush on Lydia, how achingly lonely he'd been since Scott left, how he'd devised that stupid fucking plan to get Lydia to notice him. He tells her how he asked Derek to agree to a fake relationship with him in exchange for tutoring him in Chemistry. He admits how quickly he realized that he liked Derek, and how little he knew Lydia. He even revisits the mortifying conflict with Jackson in the corridor this morning.

Everything except the making out stuff. Some things are private after all.

Talking is cathartic though, and by the time he stutters to a stop he feels like a burden has been lifted.

Laura is looking at him thoughtfully. “Jackson is a fucking douche.” she pronounces, “If I see him any time soon I'm going to rip his balls off and stick them up so far up his butt he'll be able to floss with his pubes.”

“That's a disturbing mental image," Stiles blanches, “remind me never to piss you off. Listen, don't tell Derek any of this. I know he doesn't think of me that way, not really and he's been really great to me. I don't wanna put more pressure on him. Okay?”

She looks at him incredulously, shaking her head, “Unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.”

“Please,” he says, his eyes wide and pleading, “Promise me you won't tell him. Promise”

She sighs heavily, “Fine, enough with the Bambi eyes. I promise _I_ won't tell him anything, but I think _you_ should.”

“Maybe.” Stiles says sullenly.

“For God's sake the pair of you are a match made in heaven.” She looks pissed but fond, its an expression he recognizes, it's on his Dad's face a lot.

Stiles looks across at her hopefully, “You think so?” he says.

“Yeah.” she grumbles, “You're both too stupid to live. Come on. We've missed homeroom but I'll walk you to class.”

She slings an arm loosely round his shoulder and squeezes it gently, “Anyone gives you any shit today, you come find me. Okay?”

Its not much, but it makes Stiles feels a little better.

 **  
**  
o0o

 

 **Hey guys. I love Laura. I always wanted to write a Laura/Stiles Brotp. So this last scene was a little bit of wish fulfillment for me.**  
**Hope you enjoyed the new chapter.**  
**As always I'm slowly working out how to use[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo/). I have now officially opened my ask box thing, (I didn't realise I had to do that because I'm lame.) If you have any questions, suggestions or just want to say hi then feel free.**  
  
**Also I have other[fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works), it's all Sterek, because that's how I roll. Check it out!**

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So this is the (probably) final chapter from Derek's POV. It starts back after he first agreed to take part in this crazy plan, and takes us right up to after he punched Jackson and the consequences of that.
> 
> I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> Lydia makes an appearence. She's very much a TW season 1 Lydia though, she is by no means irredeemable but there is no Alison or werewolf drama to temper her nastier traits. 
> 
> Special thanks to the Horrid Truth for proof reading this for me. :-)
> 
> **Edited because the formatting went all wonky when I uploaded to AO3. If you spot any more errors of that nature let me know.**

Interlude III

  
After agreeing to Stiles' insane plan he spends the entire night engaged in a massive freak out. He locks himself in his bedroom, and paces in agitation. This could either be the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to him. He still can't decide which though.

The thing is, it's _Stiles_.

Stiles, who he has been crushing on for as long as he can remember. Stiles, with his wicked grin and all those fucking moles. Stiles, with his coltish limbs and graceless raw enthusiasm. Stiles, with his perfect pink lips and lean, expressive fingers. Stiles, with his wide, whiskey colored eyes. Stiles, in all his intelligent, funny, vulnerable, naive, loyal, assholeish glory.

Stiles, who is in love with Lydia Martin.

Lydia _fucking_ Martin.

In the end that trumps every other consideration. Derek kicks his desk chair in frustration, and sends it rolling across the room.

He can't do this. He's just going to have to find Stiles tomorrow at school and back out. If he does this it will be the worst form of torture. He would be so close and yet _so_ far from everything he's ever wanted.

He won't do that to himself.

He'll tell Stiles tomorrow.

He has some self respect dammit.

  
o0o

  
He has no self respect.

None.

Derek spends the day unable to stop looking at Stiles whenever he gets the chance. Which is not  _that_ different from usual, except that now Stiles is _looking back_. Every time they catch each other's eye Derek feels his stomach flip, like he's on a roller coaster as his heart hammers in his chest. It isn't normal to feel this way about someone, is it? He almost feels ill with nervous anticipation and that's not healthy, is it?

Of course, Erica notices Stiles looking back immediately. She keeps nodding at Derek and nudging him in excitement. Isaac and Boyd pick up on it too. Boyd even pulls him to one side and says, “I think your boy might be into you, Der. You should make a move.”

Coming from Boyd that's just... well... Boyd hardly ever interferes in this kind of stuff. He's a big believer in live and let live, and minding your own business. Derek's always appreciated that about him. If Boyd is saying he should go for it, then maybe he should. Of course, Boyd doesn't know why Stiles has suddenly started noticing him. Derek doesn't feel like telling him.

The thing is, he never made a move before because he didn't know Stiles was bisexual, at least, that's what he tells himself. He was never going to put himself out there only for Stiles to say he didn't like guys. He would rather pine in secret.

Now though, Stiles has admitted his bisexuality, so in theory Derek has a shot.

Maybe.

He does if he ignores the whole 'Stiles is in love with Lydia' thing. He can't ignore it though. If only he could remove Stiles' feelings for Lydia he might have a chance.

The solution comes to Derek in a heartbeat as he walks into AP History on Thursday. He takes one look at Stiles sitting there, chewing absentmindedly on a pen and he's decided. He's going to use the fake relationship as an opportunity to try and woo Stiles for himself. He's going to deploy every metaphorical gun in his arsenal to get Stiles to forget about Lydia. He'll have to be careful how he goes about it, he doesn't want to scare Stiles off, but he's going to go for it. At this point it feels like he's got nothing to lose.

With that in mind he steels himself, wanders over and arranges to meet up with Stiles after school.

  
o0o

  
Derek waits for Stiles in the parking lot at home time. He's nervous, so much is riding on this, and he doesn't want to blow it. When he sees Stiles wandering over his breath catches in his throat. Stiles looks beautiful and Derek's heart skips erratically in his chest. He tamps down his anxiety, he's got to play this cool. He doesn't want to freak Stiles out or push him away by being too intense.

They drive back to Stiles house in separate cars. Derek is vibrating with nervous anticipation.

He's going to go into Stiles' home. He's going to see where he lives. They're going to be alone together. He takes several calming breaths before he gets out of the car and makes himself calm the fuck down.

They sit down at the table and Derek wants to make a good impression, he really does.

Unfortunately, once they start discussing their fake relationship, Derek can't restrain himself.

He'd never had anything against Lydia Martin up until this point. Now every time he sees her at school, he feels an irrational surge of hatred. He gets irritated every time Stiles mentions her name. He's just so fucking jealous of her. The worst thing is that she probably doesn't even know who Stiles is. It's ridiculous. He can't resist asking what Stiles sees in her, and then has to listen resentfully as he raves about how _fucking_ wonderful she is.

This is a terrible idea.

He should stop doing this now.

Stiles is never going to stop looking at Lydia and see him.

He should back out.

He can't do it though, because he finally has Stiles is his life, and any Stiles is so much better than no Stiles at all.

When they discuss the fine details of their fake relationship, it's clear that Stiles is inexperienced.

He readily admits he's never kissed anyone and at that point Derek's brain kind of short circuits.

Derek could be Stiles first kiss.

Derek could be Stiles _first kiss_...

…

...

Yeah, he's gonna do this.

There is no way he's going to give that opportunity to someone else.

Derek wants to kiss Stiles until he can't remember Lydia's name.

 

o0o

 

Nothing is ever simple though, and Derek should know that by now. Stiles is both enthusiastic and insecure. Confident and shy. One minute he seems like he's into Derek, the next he's asking what Derek thinks _Lydia_ would like to do. Stiles makes jokes about Derek pounding his ass that leave _Derek_ stammering and blushing. He _mauls_ his fucking straw on their date in a way that leaves Derek nursing an uncomfortable semi in the diner. Yet he virtually has a panic attack when he thinks Derek has told other people about their 'fake' date. He needs constant reassurance that he's doing okay. He's convinced that Derek should be ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. Derek veers between being hurt and confused. Stiles seems to have this twisted perception of who Derek is and what he wants. Derek doesn't know how to break it down.

When Stiles forgets that it’s all pretend, when he lets go of his insecurities, it’s amazing. In those moments he's the most brilliant, fun, sexy person Derek has ever met, bar none. However, it’s clear Stiles self esteem issues run pretty deep, and Derek keeps treading on them. Stiles is convinced Derek is way out of his league, to the point where he doesn't seem to see Derek as an option. That more than anything else troubles Derek. Until Stiles lets go of that idea, he's never actually going to see Derek as a person. A person who is just as flawed, vulnerable and lonely as he is. Derek doesn't want to be put up on a pedestal, he wants to make a space for himself at Stiles' side.

In short, dating Stiles is the sweetest fucking torture. Derek wouldn't swap it for the world. It  _is_ torture though.

The lowest point is when Stiles actually works out that Derek likes someone. He offers to help Derek get 'his Lydia.' Derek doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He almost backs out, almost quits the whole scheme right there. However, Stiles is so sincere, so kind, so sad on Derek's behalf that he can't do it. Stiles is the kind of guy that sees someone suffering and wants to help them. _That's the guy_  Derek has been obsessing over for as long as he can remember. He just wants to grab him and shout, “It's _you_ dumbass!”

He doesn't though. He's not brave enough.

The high point is when he finally gets to kiss Stiles, they're standing on the porch after their date. Derek's heart is beating nervously in his chest, his palms are sweating but he just _fucking_ goes for it. He knows in reality that one kiss isn't going to purge all thoughts of Lydia Martin from Stiles head, but dear God he tries to make it count. Stiles seems uncertain at first, but then he reciprocates and its good. It’s so much better than Derek imagined it would be. For one moment, he lets himself believe that this is real, that Stiles is here because he wants _Derek_.

When they part Stiles is quiet, almost dazed, he keeps touching his lips with his fingers, like he can't believe what just happened.

Derek chalks it up as a win.

  
o0o

  
Derek spends a lazy morning in bed the next day, thinking about his night out with Stiles, the way he smiles, the way he looks, the feel of him. He flips onto his front and smiles into his pillow at the thought of him. He's just so happy. Before long he's rubbing one out thinking about their kiss and then relaxing back into his bed, boneless and sated.

Later, Stiles calls him and invites him over, he's ecstatic, this is working, he's winning! Stiles is going to forget about Lydia. He can make this happen.

When he finally arrives and makes his way up to Stiles' room he almost can't believe it. He has fantasized about what Stiles room would be like. Literally. Then Stiles takes his t-shirt off, and Derek's brain shuts down because this is another fantasy come true. Stiles is pale, lean, strong and speckled with moles. Derek gapes openly, he can't stop looking, but at the same time he feels like such a creeper. Stiles is talking to him and he can barely form a coherent sentence, he can feel his face burning as he tries not to stare.

Stiles gets a different  t-shirt on, and they talk, properly talk, about Stiles' Mom. It feels intimate, meaningful. This is what Derek wants, to know Stiles, to be the person he goes to. He wants to be here for him. He basically says as much and then all of a sudden Stiles kisses him.

Every other time they've kissed _Derek_ has initiated it. This is all Stiles though, and for all it starts out sweet and innocent, it doesn't stay that way for long, he can't get enough, can't stop touching. Soon they're lying on the bed, fully clothed, rubbing against each other through their jeans and Derek is about two minutes away from coming in his pants.

With a Herculean effort he stops, pulls back. He can't just be some experiment for Stiles, some kind of placeholder until he gets with Lydia.

As if on cue, Stiles is trying to probe him, trying to find out more about who it is Derek likes, who 'his Lydia' is. He just wants to cry.

He tells him though, makes it as vague as possible, but he tells the truth and Stiles holds him, hugs him. Drops little kisses into his hair and tells him it'll be okay, because Stiles is a _good guy._

By the time he leaves he more in love with Stiles then ever. He's so fucking screwed.

  
o0o

  
When he gets home that night, Laura grabs him as he walks through the door.

“Where ya been bro?” she asks slyly.

“Out," he says, slipping out of his jacket.

She grins sharply. “With someone?”

He shakes his head. “Just by myself," he replies.

She punches him affectionately on the arm. “You're such a fucking awful liar, Der. Fine, keep your secrets. See if I care.”

She disappears up to her room, and he watches her go.

He wants to tell her. They're close, and for all that they bicker sometimes, there's not much that he _doesn't_ share with her. She's mouthy and forthright, but she has good judgement and she's always got his back. The things is, he just knows she won't approve of this. She'll tell him it's a bad idea. She'll tell him he'll get hurt. She'll tell him to speak to Stiles.

He doesn't want to hear her say those things because he knows she's right. She's right but he doesn't want to give this up now.

Next day, he sees Stiles standing by the locker, looking nervous and vulnerable. Derek can't help himself, he just has to go over. When Stiles accepts his jacket he just melts. He just wants to gather him up in his arms and hug him for the rest of the day. Maybe find an empty classroom and make out a bit. Stiles looks like _his_. It's like they're _really_ dating.

Then Whittemore arrives and it all goes to shit.

He can't stand Whittemore. Mostly it's the kind of a low level, slow burn dislike, where you know you don't get along, but not enough to really do anything.

However, as soon as he starts mouthing off about Stiles, Derek sees red.

He. Sees. Red.

Before he's even realized it, he's punched Whittemore in the face so hard, he thinks he may have broken his hand. It hurts. He can only hope Jackson hurts more.

Without thinking, he drags Stiles through the corridors of the schools, possessed by a kind of blind fury.

Who does Jackson think he is? The fucking asshole.

He stumbles into the restroom and starts to try and ease the burning, aching sensation in his hand.

He's high on anger and adrenaline right until Stiles starts to apologise, starts to blame himself, starts to say _Jackson_ was _right_.

Derek feels like his heart has split in two.

He's never going to be able to do this.

He thought his biggest challenge in getting Stiles was Stiles' feelings for Lydia.

He was wrong.

It turns out the biggest barrier is Stiles' self esteem. _How_ can he think that Jackson is right? _How_ can someone so smart, so funny, so wonderful in so many ways listen to that dick?

He stumbles, fumbles over his words, trying to make Stiles see how important he is, how amazing. He's never been great with words though, he can never say all the things he needs to, but maybe he could show him. Maybe if he just...

They kiss. It's hot and hard and desperate. It's nothing like they've done before. It's nothing like he's done with anyone else, because it means so much more. This is Stiles. This is... everything.

Before he can fully register what's happening, Derek has him pushed up against the sink, grinding into him furious, insistent and so _fucking_ necessary. He's given up on being able to say the right words but Stiles has to get _this_. In this moment this is all Derek has to offer and it has to mean _something_.

Stiles seems to be reciprocating... seems to want it just as much. Fuck. Suddenly Derek's there, teetering on the verge, about to come in his jeans like the horny teenager he is. Then, at the last minute Stiles stops, pulls back, a pinched expression on his face. Like he regrets... like this isn't what he wants...

Fuck...

Derek went too far. This is more than they talked about, he should have asked. He should have  _made sure_ it was okay.

He's a terrible human being.

He's taking advantage.

Stiles doesn't _like_ him. Stiles likes _Lydia_.

What the _fuck_ is he doing?

At that moment Laura and Danny burst in, and he doesn't have time to apologize or to explain himself.

Apparently Derek may have broken Jackson's nose and now he's going to have to fight for his place on the Lacrosse team. Basically it's all one tremendous fuck up. He's angry with himself about so much and he doesn't know how to begin to make it right.

He lets Danny herd him away to the principal's office, and not for the first time he's grateful for Danny's friendship.

They may not have worked out as a couple, but Danny is a really good guy. The best.

He's shoulder to shoulder with Derek now as they knock on the door to the principal's office.

“Enter!” Barks out Principal Ryan.

Derek takes a deep breath and goes in. He opens the door to find Jackson sitting there, a bloody tissue clamped firmly to his nose, and Coach Finstock, who looks like he wants to put his fist through the nearest wall. Principal Ryan's mouth is set in a grim line.

Jackson looks thoroughly pissed to see Derek and Danny together, he never liked Derek and he's never shared Danny's friendship well.

Derek sits down, feeling sick and nervous. He's not good with words at the best of times and he has no idea how to defend himself now. It doesn't help that right now, he doesn't give a shit about lacrosse, he just wants to find Stiles.

Thank fuck for Danny though.

Danny rises to the occasion like a champion, he manages to explain the situation to the principal, talk Jackson down, (his nose isn't actually broken after all) and even calm the Coach. By the end of it, he's got Derek and Jackson reluctantly shaking hands. He makes them apologize to _each other_. The coach cracks a _grin_. Principal Ryan is sitting their with a slightly stunned expression on his face. If Danny ever decides to quit lacrosse, there's definitely a career in politics waiting for him.

Derek gets out of the meeting having barely spoken three sentences together. He has a two match ban and is suspended for the rest of the day and tomorrow.

It's not bad, but it's not great.

His Mom is still gonna be pissed as hell.

He should be relieved, it's so much better then it could have been.

Danny pulls him to one side as they're leaving.

“So,” He says with a small smile, “You finally sorted stuff out with Stiles.”

Derek looks shocked. “Wha- what do you mean?” He stutters.

Danny's dimples deepen as he grins. “Are you trying to tell me you haven't been crushing on Stiles for the past God knows how long?”

Derek swallows awkwardly. “I uh.”

Danny squeezes Derek's forearm and rolls his eyes. “It's okay, Der. I knew. Even when we were together, I knew. You used to light up whenever he came into the room. I'm happy for you. Honestly.”

Derek swallows round the lump in his throat. “Thanks,” he said thickly, “for what you did in there and for everything.” He feels guilty somehow, suddenly his relationship with Danny is cast in a brand new light.

“Stop worrying.” Danny says with an easy smile. “I'm happy with Ethan, and I'm over you now. We're cool.”

Derek blinks. He honestly hadn't realized Danny had needed to get over him. “Okay. Good. Thanks and y'know, sorry. Sorry I wasn't a better boyfriend.”

Danny smiles at him fondly. “You're a good boyfriend. You just weren't a good one for me.”

It's painful, honest and probably more than Derek deserves. He smiles, “I'm glad we can be friends now.” he says feeling a little uncertain.

“Me too.” Danny sounds sincere. “I better go. Technically I'm team Jackson in this debacle.”

Derek nodded numbly, watching as Danny retreats to Jackson's glowering figure.

He makes his way to his car, mulling over the events of the morning.

One things completely clear.

He really _sucks_ at relationships.

Maybe he _should_ talk to Laura.

He's about to get in the Camaro and drive himself home when he's accosted by a petite angry redhead in four inch heels and a cloud of expensive perfume.

“You!” She exclaims angrily. “We need to have words.” She grabs him by the arm and drags him into the nearest alcove. “My birthday party is this week asshole. Do you know how much it cost? Do you?”

Derek glowers, every ounce of his resentment for Lydia returning full force. “Not my problem.”

He shakes off her arm and makes to to leave.

“I will _make_ it your problem, jackass. I was going to tell Jackson to take me, but he's not going to photograph well looking like that.”

“I'm devastated for you," Derek growls.

“You needn't be. You're taking me now.” She says, eyes glittering dangerously.

He stops dead and stares at her. “What?”

“You. Are. Taking. Me.” Her tone brooks no argument.

“No. I'm not.” He spits back.

“You owe me.” She says. “I had this all planned out and you ruined it.”

“And what is Jackson going to say about that?”

“It isn't any of his business. It isn't like we're actually dating at the moment," she says, coolly.

He's so goddamn furious he doesn't even know where to begin. “I can't believe he likes _you_!” he explodes angrily.

She purses her lips grimly. “Jackson doesn't like me, and I don't like him. It doesn't mean we don't love each other,” She bites out.

Derek can't even unpick the problems with that sentence. “Not Jackson! Stiles! I can't believe that Stiles likes you. You're a conniving, meddling, manipulative-”

“Who's Stiles?” she interrupts, curiously. “What's he got to do with anything?”

“It doesn't matter,” Derek grinds out furiously. “Forget I said anything.”

She looks at him thoughtfully. “Is he the one you're always mooning over? The one Danny was always depressed about, the clumsy one with the eyes and the oral fixation.”

Derek's mouth drops. “How do you know?”

“Danny.” She says serenely, “I just told you that, try to listen.”

Derek scowls angrily. “Whatever. It's none of your business. I'm not going to that party with you. I'm not _interested_ in you.”

“No. No you're really not are you.” She shoots him a calculating look. “Fine. Well, maybe I'll just ask Stiles to come with me instead.”

“You wouldn't.” Derek pales, his heart sinking into his boots.

“Wouldn't I? But I have it on such good authority that he _likes_ me.” She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “Goodbye, Derek. I enjoyed our little chat. It was very... revealing.”

She turns on her heel and strides purposefully away, her heels clicking against the sidewalk.

Derek wants to be sick.

He's going to be sick.

He slides to the floor his head in his hands, he has no idea what to do.

He has no _fucking_ idea what to do.

 

o0o

 

**Oooh - the tension. As always if you enjoyed this I have other[fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works). (All Sterek)**

**Also I am on[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo), come say hi!**  
  
**I love to get comments, kudos and even concrit!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter. And the final chapter is all written and in beta. For anyone concerned that Lydia was a little too mean, I hope this chapter reveals a little more of her motivations. Although I stand by the fact that she can be quite mean when she chooses to! I will probably post the final chapter tomorrow, or maybe this weekend at the latest. Basically, I needed to finish this fic because I have so much going on in my life now, and I was getting distracted from things because I kept wanting to write it. Anyway. I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Many thanks to The Horrid Truth for reading this through for me and correcting my mistakes. Any other mistakes you find are entirely of my own making. :-)

When Stiles finally gets to class everyone stops talking and turns to stare at him. He walks slowly to his desk, his face burning. All around him he can feel their curious stares, hear his name in threads of their conversations. He always thought it must be nice to be popular. To feel like people actually saw him.

Maybe it is.

As long as you're known for the right reasons.

Someone throws a piece of scrunched up paper. It hits him on the head and then rolls uselessly on to his desk. He glances round to see where it came from but nobody makes eye contact. When he opens it there's a crudely drawn picture, two stick figures bent one over the other, fucking. The one topping, for want of a better word, has massive eyebrows. The bottom has so many dots on its face it looks like it's diseased. The picture has the words, “Stilinski Virginity Relief Fund. Please place all donations in the rear.” scrawled at the top. He screws it up and shoves it in his bag, face burning.

Behind him, someone sniggers.

His hands tremble violently as he gets his books out of his bag.

It's going to be a long day.

  
o0o

  
It doesn't get much better. Derek has apparently been suspended from school, as well as from the Lacrosse team. Nobody seems sure how long either of those punishments are in place for. Some people are saying its permanent, others that he'll be back tomorrow. Stiles has several more notes stuck to him. He gets elbowed and knocked about as he walks through the corridors. Apparently the Lacrosse team are taking out their frustrations at losing their best player on him. He can't really blame them. He's the one who talked Derek into this.

It's his fault.

Stiles' guilt consumes him. He kind of wants to phone Derek. He wants to check on him and see how he is, but every time he goes to do it he remembers how easily Danny had managed Derek, how quickly Derek had gone with him, and how good they'd looked together. Someone shoves past him, sending him stumbling into the lockers.

He deserves this.

At lunchtime he collects his food and finds an empty table, as far away from everyone else as he can. He can still feel people’s eyes on him though. He gets out his book and sits there, staring at it blankly. It's been ten minutes and he's not read a single word, when the scrape of a chair causes him to look up.

His breath catches in his throat.

_Lydia Martin._

“Is anyone sitting here?” she asks, flashing him a winning smile.

He shakes his head mutely.

Has he stepped into a parallel universe? It feels like he might have done.

“Wonderful," she says, sitting down gracefully opposite him.

He stares at her a second, not sure quite what to say. From the absence of noise in the cafeteria it seems like he's not the only one who's shocked. “Are are you...” he stutters. “Wha-?”

She smiles at him sweetly. “Stiles, right?” she asks. His heart hammers in his chest, he nods frantically.

“I'm Lydia,” she says. He knows. Oh God he knows. She's looking at him. She's expecting him to say _something._

“Are you lost?” he manages finally.

A small smile plays on her lips and she laughs. “No. Why would you say that?”

“Uh... because you're here with me,” he gestures, “and not over there with them.” He glances over, and catches Jackson glaring furiously at him from across the cafeteria.

“Maybe I wanted to sit here today,” Lydia says nonchalantly, “maybe I got tired of them.”

Stiles gaze flicks nervously about the room, “Um... that doesn't sound likely.” It doesn't make sense. Why would Lydia come and sit with him. Why would she...

“Is this because Derek punched Jackson in the face?” he says suddenly. “I didn't mean for that to happen, but...”

A brief look of annoyance flashes across her features. “I'm sure Jackson deserved it.” She says, but her tone is a little less friendly now.

Stiles looks down and fidgets nervously with his spoon. “I... he wasn't... nice, but I don't know that anyone deserves to be hit," he says finally. “It's not a good way to resolve things.”

Lydia's mouth tightens in a little moue of annoyance. “Tell that to Derek,” she mutters darkly.

Stiles subsides guiltily. This is all his fault. Derek is in trouble with Lydia, and it's all his fault.

“You shouldn't blame Derek.” he says finally, “I... it's my fault. I... this whole thing has been my fault from the beginning. He wouldn't have been put in that position if it wasn't for me.”

Lydia cocks her head to one side. “What do you mean?” she asks.

He wants to tell her. He wants to get it all off his chest, but he can't. He can't explain the pretend dating or  _why_ he asked Derek to agree to it in the first place. How did this whole situation got so out of hand? He drops his head and stares miserably at his hands.

They don't have any answers.

“Hey,” she says gently, placing a hand over his, “what did you mean?” He looks at her hand, so pale and delicate as it grasps his own. Literally a week ago he would have been over the moon to have her sitting at his table, to have her touch him. Now he just wishes she were Derek.

“I, uh...” he starts, he doesn't get to finish. There's the scrape of a chair being pulled back and Laura Hale sits down next to him.

“Stiles, Lydia,” she says smiling dangerously. “Fancy seeing you two sitting here. Together.”

“Laura,” Lydia acknowledges, “how lovely to see you.” The tone of her voice suggests that she'd actually rather see a pig shit in a forest, and Laura grins at her wide and sharp.

“How goes the day Bambi?” Laura says not taking her eyes off Lydia. The question is clearly directed at Stiles though.

"Um..." Stiles says intelligently.

“Bambi? Oh that's precious.” Lydia responds, her gaze fixed on Laura's face.

His glances between them, trying to understand all the things they aren't saying.

“So, Stiles,” Lydia says, finally dragging her attention away from Laura, “it's my birthday party this weekend. I wondered whether you would like to go.”

“Uh – I don't know.” Stiles begins to say.

Lydia unleashes her most dazzling smile, “I'm asking you to come as my date, naturally."

Once again Stiles is forced to check round the room and make sure he's not entered some kind of twilight zone.

“Wha... I don't... just... what?” he stutters out disbelievingly.

Both girls are both looking at him curiously now. “I'm asking if you'll come to my birthday party as my date,” Lydia repeats slowly.

No. It still doesn't make any more sense the second time he hears it. This is wrong. This isn’t how this is supposed to happen.

“Uh... why?” He doesn't mean to say it, it just kind of tumbles out without his permission. It’s a good question though. He’s quite proud of himself. Lydia tilts her head again and looks at him. Its an honest look this time, like she's really seeing him for the first time.

Laura breaks the silence, sighing in frustration. “Probably to annoy my brother, or Jackson, or some combination of the two I imagine. Isn't that right, Lydia?”

Lydia looks between them. and then rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Fine. Yes. I'm pissed off because Jackson's being an asshole, but I was still going to take him as my date. Then Derek had to punch him in the face, which will ruin the photographs. Jackson’s so funny about having his photo taken anyway. So I asked Derek to take me instead, but he refused, so now I'm asking you.”

Laura snorts, “Oh God. That's hilarious. You asked Derek.”

Stiles brain works overtime trying to fit together all these new pieces of information. “You asked Derek to take you to your party?” he begins.

“Yeah.” she nods, “well, I told him he would, but he got all pissy, and then I got annoyed, so..." she takes an elegant bite of her sandwich.

“So I'm the next best choice after Derek?” Stiles asks disbelievingly.

Lydia eyes him shrewdly. “Fine,” she admits, “I asked you because I got angry with Derek, and I knew asking you would piss him off. There, better now?” her smile is dagger sharp.

Laura shakes her head and smiles softly at Lydia. “You're a piece of work Martin.” she says fondly, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. Lydia blushes a little, but refuses to meet Laura's eyes. “What did Jackson do this time?” Laura asks.

Lydia reaches out a hand and fiddles absently with her sandwich wrapper, still pointedly not looking at Laura. “He just... he's... it’s a long story.”

“He's not good enough for you,” Stiles says fiercely, “you deserve better.”

“Maybe," she allows, “although plenty of people would say the same thing to him about me.”

“Well they'd be wrong,” Stiles says bullishly. “He's a dick. You're not... you're amazing.”

Lydia sighs heavily, “It's complicated Stiles. I... not everyone fits into little boxes. Life is messy.” Stiles purses his lips, about to unleash another bout of praise.

Laura leans forward. “I'll be your date,” she says, looking intently at Lydia.

Lydia meets her gaze uncertainly, mouth gaping in silent shock. “You'd want to do that?” her voice wavers hopefully.

“I would.” Laura nods seriously. "I really would."

Lydia smiles softly. “I… uh... okay. Me too.” She smiles at Laura, warm and genuine. Stiles can't remember seeing that smile before, and he's spent a long time cataloging all of them.

“Okay.” Laura smiles back. Lydia stands abruptly. She’s rosy cheeked and flustered. She picks up her tray. “I better be going. It was nice to meet you, Stiles.” she says, looking at Laura.

Stiles watches her go, his entire universe reshaping around what he's just witnessed.

Laura leans back in her chair, stretches and folds her hands behind her head. She's grinning broadly.

Stiles gapes at her, his jaw slack. She glances at him and scowls, “Oh for fucks sake, Stilinski. You think you have the monopoly on liking Lydia Martin?”

He shrugs helplessly. Nothing about this day is going as expected.

One thing is rattling around in his brain though, a throwaway comment Lydia made, and now she's gone it nudges insistently at his subconscious, demanding attention. “What did she mean when she said that she knew it would piss Derek off if she asked me out?” he wonders aloud.

Laura side eyes him and shakes her head, “What do you think it means?” she says finally, “If you haven't worked that out by now, I can't help you.”

Stiles fidgets with his fork, agitated, “It doesn't make sense, it wouldn't make sense unless...” he trails off, it only makes sense if Derek has feelings for _him._ “But Derek likes Danny!” he mutters to himself.

Laura pauses, spoon halfway to her mouth, and looks at him. “What now?” she spits, disbelievingly.

Stiles face falls, “I... Derek likes Danny?” he says with slightly less confidence.

“Fuck this shit!” Laura exclaims, dropping her spoon and sending her pudding cup everywhere. “Seriously! What is wrong with you people?”

“Derek doesn't like Danny?” Stiles says, testing the words out as he says them.

Laura grimaces and shakes her head. “No Stiles. Derek does not like Danny. _Jesus_.”

“But he said he liked someone for ages, that they had a really good friend, which okay, that would be Jackson, who is actually really possessive of Danny. He said he talked to them and they tried but it didn't work out because the person he liked was in love with someone else. Danny dumped Derek for Ethan," he says, a slight edge of hysteria to his voice now. “It all makes sense.”

Laura looks at him, some of the frustration melting away. “Okay. I'm not sure how you guys have managed to miscommunicate quite _this_ badly, but let me make one thing very clear. Danny liked Derek. He had done for ages, although I don't think my dumb brother ever really picked up on that. Anyway, they dated, casually, but Danny knew Derek liked someone else, and he wasn't prepared to be second best. So, he broke it off. Then he found Ethan, and now he's moved on. My brother has  _never_ been in love with Danny.”

“Okay, but then who...” he trails off looking at her pleadingly.

She stares back at him, glares really, _significantly_ , like she's trying to communicate the answer by some kind of telepathy.

Like she's trying to tell him...

But that can't be right...

“Me?!” He squeaks shrilly. “You're saying he likes me.”

She nods frantically. “Except I _didn't_ say it. Remember that if he ever mentions it. I _explicitly_ didn't say it. You worked it out all on your _own_.”

“You can't be right about that.” Stiles shakes his head. “That doesn't make any sense. Laura, you’ve made some kind of mistake.” He's freaking out, this isn't possible, this is crazy.

Laura looks thoroughly pissed. She leans in, grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him toward her. “Listen,” she grinds out, “My brother has been stupidly in love with you for years. Do you know how many times I've had to listen to him talk about your goddamn _moles_ , your _lips_... your fucking _hands_. Do you? DO YOU? I'm pleading with you, one human being to another. I can't go on. I can't listen to that shit any more. If not for Derek, if not for yourself, then for me, please, _please_ go and sort this shit out. Seriously. I'm begging you.” She drops his shirt and sags back in her chair, breathing hard.

Stiles sits there frozen in the moment, as his brain tries to readjust to this new and wonderful information.

“He likes my _moles?_ ” Stiles says absently, running his fingers over his lips. Hope blooming warm in his chest.

Laura sighs in frustration as her head thunks against the table.

“Fuck my life," She whispers. “Fuck my fucking life.”

 

o0o  


**As always thank you for reading! I have a whole headcanon/backstory worked out for the Laura/Lydia thing for anyone who's interested.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head canon for Laura and Lydia: (starts 6 months before the beginning of this fic.) You don't need to read this. It's only for those who expressed an interest.
> 
> Laura has always known she likes girls. She's never stressed about it, never worried, it's just a fact, like she's always had dark brown hair, and brown eyes, and two really annoying siblings. Okay... so not really annoying, but Derek is definitely unnecessarily angsty. 
> 
> Its not until a party at Aiden and Ethan's house though that she really notices Lydia. I mean, she knows who Lydia is, *everyone* knows who Lydia is. Lydia and Jackson. Jackson and Lydia. They're basically the Ross and Rachel of BHHS. Except a bit less likable and a lot more power hungry. Anyway, she's at the party and its fine. It's nothing special but its not bad. She's disappeared out into the back garden for a bit of peace and quiet and a quick smoke. It's all gotten a little too loud and a little too crazy in the house. 
> 
> Suddenly there's the sound of footsteps approaching and a sniffle. She looks up to see who it is and then scowls because it's Lydia. Lydia hasn't seen her yet though, and as the girl draw's closer, Laura can see that she's crying. 
> 
> She stops just in front of the tree Laura's standing behind, and snorts inelegantly, swiping angrily at her tears like they've personally offended her.
> 
> Laura exhales slowly. She doesn't quite know whether to reveal her presence or not, but then Lydia releases a huge, shuddering sigh, and she decides, eh... fuck it... even the Lydia Martins of this world probably need a shoulder to cry on sometimes.
> 
> She steps out from be hind the tree and clears her throat. Lydia startles and then glares. "Are you okay?" Laura asks.  
> Lydia nods sharply, her features stern and unforgiving, but her eyes give her away, the same mute terror as a cornered animal. 
> 
> "You wanna smoke?" Laura says, offering her half smoked cigarette.
> 
> Lydia looks at it, "I don't..." she begins to say, but then there's a loud noise from inside the house and the sound of raucous laughter. Lydia's features harden, "Yeah actually..." she spits, "I think I kind of do." She reaches over and grabs the cigarette, puts to her lips and inhales. It's too much, she's clearly never done this before and she starts coughing. 
> 
> "Slower," Laura says, "You'll get used to it." 
> 
> Lydia looks at her angrily, but does it again, better this time.
> 
> "Jackson pissing you off," Laura states, conversationally.
> 
> Lydia rolls her eyes. "Always," She bites out. She takes one more drag on the cigarette and then hands it back to Laura. "Its okay." she says gesturing to the smoldering nub, "I don't think I'd want to make a habit of it." 
> 
> Its weird to see Lydia so unguarded. She always seems to wear so many masks at school, its impossible to know who the real Lydia Martin is. Laura regards her critically in the dim light and Lydia bristles. 
> 
> "What?" Lydia says, there's a note of irritation but also something else like maybe she's feeling self conscious and her eyes skitter over Laura nervously.
> 
> "Nothing." Laura says, but she takes a step toward her, then another, until they're almost standing toe to toe. 
> 
> Lydia inhales shakily her eyes wide, and licks her lips, glancing down at Laura's in the process. 
> 
> Looking back, she's never quite sure which one of them makes the first move, but suddenly they're kissing. Tentatively at first but then increasingly urgent. Lydia cups Laura's face with one hand, and Laura runs her hand up, over Lydias waist, cupping her breast and thumbing gently over her nipple. Lydia shudders in her arms and leans into it with a breathless moan.
> 
> "Lydia!"
> 
> There's the sound of a drunk, a very drunk Jackson calling and just like that they spring apart. Lydia's hand springs to her mouth, touching her lips as she regards Laura with a look of shock, awe and maybe guilt. 
> 
> Laura is 100% sure Lydia Martin has never kissed a girl before. 
> 
> Lydia seems to gather herself, pulls together the ragged edges of her poise and manages to fix Laura with a stony gaze. "You should stop smoking." She says haughtily. "It doesn't taste nice." With that she turns on her heel and leaves, following the sound of Jackson's voice.
> 
> Laura bite out a laugh at the gall of the girl, but there's something there, she can't deny it. She leaves the party early and drives back to her house, throws all her cigarettes in the bin. She won't be needing them again.
> 
> The next day at school she sees Lydia, hanging round Jackson, mask firmly in place. She sees her again, and again. Lydia never looks back. Clings to Jackson even more and very pointedly never looks back. Its uncanny.
> 
> It doesn't matter, Laura can wait. She'll bide her time and make her move when the moments right.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot! Do you remember those heady days? I do... I was all like... maybe I might dabble a bit more in this universe. Then this happened.
> 
> Ah well. This is offically the final chapter.
> 
> Thanks to The Horrid Truth for casting an eye over this for me, correcting my grammar, and generally being wonderful and encouraging.
> 
> P.S. When I've been writing this chapter I hum the intro to Final Countdown by Europe and then I sing: "Its the Final Chaaappttter!" At the top of my lungs. Its probably best there's no-one about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who asked for it, or was interested, I added my Laura/Lydia head canon to the notes at the bottom of the previous chapter. :-)

He can't stay at school.

He has to find Derek.

His heart is banging against his rib cage and his palms are sweating. Laura's still sitting, slumped in her chair, head resting on the table.

He grabs his bag, sweeps it up over his shoulder and stands abruptly.

“Stiles? Where are you going?” Laura asks, turning her head to look, eyes narrowed.

“Derek!” he says, flailing as he trips over a chair leg. “I have to find Derek.”  
  
She looks at him and then sits up and grins, “Oh yeah! You're totally gonna sort this out for me aren't you? I _knew_ I liked you Stilinski!”  
  
He shrugs, “No offence, but I'm not really doing this for you.”

Her smile widens even more. “Fuck yeah. That's what I like to hear.”

He turns to leave. “Listen,” she calls after him, “He's probably gone back to the house to sulk, but if he's not there try the park!”  
  
Stiles barely pays her any attention, he's already skidding wildly across the cafeteria, his arms windmilling wildly.

He runs to his Jeep, and throws the door open slinging his backpack in. He tumbles in after it, closing the door behind him.

Then he allows himself a moment to breathe.

Derek likes him.

Derek _likes_ him.

He can't stop smiling.

…

…

It takes all of two minutes for nerves to set in.

What an idiot he's been, bringing up Lydia all the time, trying to coax Derek into talking about who he likes. He asked a guy, who has apparently been crushing on him for ages, to pretend to to date him. Oh God, that must have been cruel and unusual torture, but Derek did it anyway. God, he's been so blind. His face heats in embarrassment, even though there's no-one about to see it. He's overcome with an urge to do something nice for Derek now, some kind of gesture to show that they're on the same page. God knows Derek deserves it.

He turns the key in the ignition and his Jeep roars to life. He's driving through town on the way to Derek's house when he sees a florist shop. He's never bought flowers before, doesn't even know where to start, but it seems like the right kind of romantic gesture. Impulsively, he pulls up outside the store, and topples out, running over. He bursts through the door the front door, and the woman behind the counter startles, looking up in shock.

“Can I help you?” she asks, once she's recovered.

Stiles stops and looks around. Goddamn it, he knows nothing about flowers. Like _less_ than nothing. Derek is a guy.

He's on the lacrosse team.

He doesn't want _fucking_ flowers.

This is a _stupid_ idea.

The thing is, Stiles is in the shop now, he's nearly given the shop assistant a heart attack. He kind of feels obligated to buy _something_.

“I... um.... wanted to buy some flowers?” He says, looking around at all the dewy bouquets and feeling kind of intimidated.

The woman behind the counter, who's called Karen according to her name tag, suppresses a smile. “Are you sure?” she asks.

“Yeah.” he says defensively.

She looks at him indulgently, and seems to decide to take pity on him. “Who for?”

Stiles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Who is Derek to him? They're not really boyfriends yet.

Well they are sort of...

Maybe?

I mean assuming Laura's not lying and this isn't all some massive practical joke. It isn't though. He knows that. Laura's scary but she's not needlessly cruel.

“They're... um... kind of for my sort of... boyfriend?” he begins hesitantly, “But I want him to become my _actual_ boyfriend. Also I kind of owe him an apology. So- yeah, there's that too.”

Karen looks thoroughly amused now. “What's your budget?”

Shit! He has to pay for these suckers, he hasn't even thought about that. He rummages wildly around in his pockets, scraping around for loose change. She watches him with growing mirth.

“Uh... five dollars and thirty-two cents.” he says blushing furiously. Is that enough? It doesn't seem like it would be enough. He might as well go out and steal something nice from someone's front yard if he's going to bother with flowers _._

“It's fine.” she says, “we'll make it work. Any idea what your not-boyfriend likes?”

Stiles shakes his head.

He doesn't even know if Derek likes flowers.

He might have hayfever for God's sake.

Oh God, he's probably incredibly allergic.

Oh God, he should have gone to some kind of sports equipment store and bought him a new jock strap or something. Something actually useful.

Karen moves round the store, looking at different vases full of fresh cut blooms with a critical eye. Taking first one stem and then another and then artfully tying them into a small bouquet.

It has bright red flowers, that Stiles is _fairly_ sure are carnations, and at least one stem of something that is a cluster of small purple flowers, which he doesn't recognize. There are also a lot of sprigs of green stuff. He's no expert but it looks quite nice.

“Is this okay?” Karen asks, presenting it for him to inspect.

He nods, “Yeah... I think so,” he shrugs helplessly, “it looks good to me.”

She smiles at him, pleased. “These are red carnations, this purple one is a hyacinth and then I just added a little bit of greenery to pad it out. It should say everything you want it to.”  
  
“How much?” he asks.

“Five dollars and thirty-two cents exactly,” she says with a grin.

He can't help but feel she's being quite generous here, but he's not going to question it. He hands over the money and takes the flowers gingerly.

“Tell him to cut the stems diagonally and take some of this,” she hands him a sachet of plant food, “to help keep them alive for as long as possible.”

Stiles nods and thanks her profusely.

Fuck.  
  
He's actually going to do this then.

He's going to find Derek.

Fuck.

Karen leans over the counter and squeezes his arm. “Good luck, honey,” she says, “I'm sure you'll be fine.”

 

o0o

 

Derek's car isn't outside his house. The whole house looks pretty empty actually. He scrambles out of the Jeep anyway and knocks on the door, then takes a look around, just to make sure he's not missed anything.

No, Derek isn't anywhere to be found.

He's about to have a massive freak out and call Laura, when he remembers that she mentioned the park in town.

He climbs back in the Jeep and starts the engine.

Derek can run but he can't fucking hide.

He drives back into town, and parks up in the park parking lot. He clutches the flowers carefully to his chest as he gets out, they've managed to survive the journey in his Jeep, thankfully. He's about to go racing into the park when he spots a familiar looking black car, parked a few rows

back from his own.

It's Derek's Camaro. He wanders over to it and his heart flutters madly in his chest. The car is locked up and Derek is nowhere to be seen.

Its good news though, Derek is here.

Somewhere.

In this park.

He sticks the flowers under the crook of his arm and sets off, it's quite a big place actually. There's a lake with lots of ducks, some woods, a swing park, a basket ball court and a large grassy area that kids use for all types of games. He has no idea where Derek would have decided to go. He decides to walk around the lake, follow the path through the woods and see what he can find.

What he finds is nothing. Not what he's looking for anyway.

Some dog walkers.

A mom and her kid feeding the ducks.

No sign of Derek.

He wanders aimlessly, gnawing his lip anxiously.

He's starting to lose confidence, and his flowers are beginning to wilt a little.

He's simultaneously desperate to see Derek, and terrified of how this is going to work out.

What if Derek's changed his mind?

What if he's angry about how things turned out? After all, he's been suspended and banned from Lacrosse. It's perfectly possible that Derek doesn't want to see Stiles at all. He still feels he needs to at least try and make things right with Derek though, so he forges on.

He stumbles over a tree root as he leaves the path out of the woods and catches himself before he falls over, but drops the flowers in the process.

Great.

They're now dusty, and more then a little battered looking. He picks them up ruefully and brushes them off as gently as he can.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

He sighs, maybe he'll check out the basketball court. Its possible Derek went there to shoot some hoops and blow of some steam. He's just about to turn in that direction when he catches sight of a hunched figure sitting alone on a swing in the playground.

His heart stutters in his chest.

He cranes his neck trying to get a better look.

That's not a kid.

Thats...

He's transfixed, walking slowly toward Derek, because he's sure that's who it is. Derek's hands are clutching the swing tightly, his head bent low, converse scuffing the dust at his feet as he sways almost imperceptibly with the motion of the swing. He's huddled there all alone, like a little lost kid.

Stiles doesn't know what to do, but his feet keep working. His legs keep walking, taking him straight over until he's standing directly in front of Derek.

Derek doesn't look up as he approaches, and Stiles jaw works noiselessly, as he tries to force out words.

Something, _anything._

“Hey!” Stiles says eventually.

Derek glances up sharply. His mouth a soft, unhappy line and his eyes have that glassy quality, that suggests he may or may not have been crying recently. Stiles takes a step closer. As he gets nearer he can make out tear tracks on Derek's cheeks.

God.

He's made such a colossal fuck up of this.

“Stiles,” Derek says, his voice cracked from disuse. He swipes viciously at his eyes and makes to stand up, but Stiles puts a hand out to stop him.

“It's fine, don't get up," he says, taking a seat in the swing next to Derek. He doesn't know where to begin. “I... uh... I bought you these,” he says, handing Derek the slightly crumpled bouquet and blushing brilliantly.

Derek reaches out a hand and takes them wordlessly. He cradles them in his arms carefully, looking at the flowers like they hold some kind of answer.

“What are they for?” Derek asks eventually, not looking at Stiles.

Stiles grabs the chains on his swing tightly for support. “Lots of things,” he admits, “I've fucked up a lot in the last week and I feel like I owe you an apology.”

Derek's mouth tightens into a grim line, “You don't need to say sorry for anything, Stiles.”

Stiles huffs out a frustrated sigh, “No, you're wrong, I really do. I roped you into this stupid plan. I've been completely oblivious to you're feelings, and how all this has been affecting you. Now you're suspended from school and from the lacrosse team. Possibly forever.”

Derek's mouth twists in a grim approximation of a smile. “Two lacrosse games,” he says, “and I'll be back at school the day after tomorrow.”  
  
Stiles grimaces, “It's still not great Derek. I should never have got you involved in all this.”

Derek looks at him unhappily. “Don't... don't say that. I wanted to...” he trails off, staring down at his feet, “I agreed to it, and I wouldn't change anything.”

Stiles swallows awkwardly, he's not good at these conversations, he doesn't have enough experience.

He's messing it up.

In the end Derek breaks the silence. “Lydia said she was going to ask you to her birthday party, as her date,” he says unsteadily, fingers gently playing with the delicate red petals on a carnation.

He still won't look at Stiles.

“Yeah.” Stiles swallows awkwardly round the lump in his throat. “She did that. Came up to me at lunchtime.”

Derek nods slowly, still staring at the flowers, he stops fiddling with the petals. They rest in the crook of his arm, his hands hang loosely in his lap, “I'm happy for you," he mumbles. His fists clench, knuckles whitening, “I'm happy for you,” he repeats, with more force behind it this time. Like he can _make_ it true, just by saying it.

“I didn't say yes to her,” Stiles says in a low voice.

Derek stills. The birds seem to quieten. The noise of children playing a little way off just disappears.

“You didn't say yes?” He repeats, chancing a hopeful glance up toward Stiles.

Stiles shoots him a small, soft smile and shakes his head.

Derek's looking at him intently now, “W-why- why wouldn't you?” He's clearly aiming for nonchalance and missing by about a million miles.

Stiles gnaws at his bottom lip. “Why wouldn't you tell me that you've liked me for _years," h_ e responds accusingly. It comes out harsher then he means it to.

Derek's expression grows stormy. “Laura," he  growls.

“She didn't tell me," Stiles says quickly. “I worked it out by myself, with a little help from Lydia. Laura, just filled in the blanks. Confirmed a few things.”  
  
Derek's anger melts into confusion. “ _Lydia_ helped you?” he asks.

“Inadvertently. I couldn't understand why she'd ask me out, but in the end she admitted she did it because she knew it would piss _you_ off. There was only one way to interpret that really. Even I couldn't misunderstand it.” He laughs hollowly and Derek shifts uncomfortably on the swing. Stiles waits awkwardly, “Does it?” he asks finally, suddenly shy, “Piss you off I mean. To think of her and me...”

Derek looks away, almost petulant. “Maybe,” he allows grudgingly, refusing to meet Stiles' gaze. It's adorable. Stiles heart flutters in his chest.

“I didn't say yes to Lydia, because I realized I don't feel that way about her. Not really.” Stiles says. He has to get this out now. He has to say it, whatever the result is going to be.

Derek looks at him, expression pained, “You've liked her for ages Stiles, she's all you've ever wanted.”

“I didn't know what I wanted,” Stiles admits, honestly, “I'd never been on a date, never kissed anyone, I was just so fucking lonely when Scott left, that I just started obsessing over her. I couldn't tell you anything real about her though. Not really.” He stares down at his hands. “It was only when _we_ started hanging out together that I realized how ridiculous I was being. The Lydia I thought I wanted was just a dream, a meaningless fantasy and you were real. Y'know?”

Derek looks hopeful and confused and happy all at once. “We met here,” he blurts out, “when we were little, we met here on these swings in fact. I know you probably don't remember, but...” he trails off, looking vaguely horrified by his admission, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment.

Stiles racks his brain trying to remember meeting Derek, but he's got nothing. He shrugs hopelessly. “I don't remember that.” he says, “I'm sorry.”  
  
Derek's shoulders sag a little, disappointed. “It's okay.” he says, “we were only like nine or ten.”

Stiles looks at him apologetically, “I've kind of blocked out a lot of stuff from around that age,” he admits. “My Mom got ill around then and,” he grimaces, “it's all a bit of a blur.”

Derek looks troubled, “I didn't mean to... I'm not blaming you for not remembering or anything. I just, I wanted you to know.”  
  
Stiles smiles at him. “It's fine,” he says, reaching his hand across and finding Dereks. “I _want_ to know.”

Derek looks down at where their hands are joined and his breath seems to catch in his throat. He glances up at Stiles shyly. “So, you wanna go on an _actual_ date some time?” he says.

Stiles smiles at him, heart soaring in his chest, “I really, _really_ do.”

 

 

o0o

 

They wander back through the park hand in hand, taking their time because they _can._ They can't seem to stop looking at each other and grinning. Eventually Stiles can't stand it any more and as they walk through a secluded part of the park, he pushes Derek up against a tree and kisses him. Kisses him until they pull apart, both hard and breathless, panting into each others mouths.

“You're still wearing my jacket,” Derek mumbles, looking awed.

Stiles blushes, “Is that okay?”

Derek bites his lip, colour high on his cheeks, “Fuck, yeah it is,” he says, pulling Stiles in for another kiss.

Before things can get too out of hand, Derek's mom calls. She's finally picked up a voice mail telling her about Derek's suspension and she is pissed. Stiles insists on accompanying Derek back to his home to face the music. He's not going to let Derek get in any more trouble, not when he could be there and explain, take some of the blame maybe.

When they arrive back at Derek's house Talia is there already. She's angry, firm and seems determined that Derek should be grounded, which would be the worst possible punishment for them both right now. Stiles refuses to let that happen. Before things can go too far he explains exactly _why_ Derek punched Jackson in the first place. It's not exactly a story he wants to tell the first time he meets Derek's parents, but its necessary. Derek stands next to him blushing furiously the whole time.

When Talia hears what Jackson said to Stiles her expression hardens and she exhales angrily through her nose. “I see,” she says, in clipped tones, “and what punishment did _Jackson_ receive?”

Derek shrugs indifferently and her eyes narrow.

“Fine” she says, in a tone that suggests it _really_ isn't.

“Fine,” She says again, standing up. “I need to speak to someone at that school. Derek, you're doing a few extra chores this week, but you're not grounded.” A disbelieving smile spreads across Derek's face. She continues, “If you ever punch someone again, whatever the provocation, you won't leave this house until you're eighteen,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves, presumably to make an angry phone call to the school.

Derek sags in relief once she's gone. “Thanks,” he says, looking at Stiles gratefully. “That could have been so much worse.”

Stiles nods his agreement and follows Derek upstairs to his bedroom. It's a lot neater then Stiles' room, and there are sports trophies everywhere and the bed is _made._ It belongs to Derek though, and its perfect. They make out for a bit, but they can't do too much because Talia keeps pointedly wandering past the room, to make sure the door is open.

In the end, happy but frustrated, they agree to do some actual Chemistry homework together. Derek does kinda need help with it, especially if he'll be missing some classes this week. Stiles fumbles with his bag getting his text books out, and a can of Dr Pepper. The drink is unfortunately quite warm but he's thirsty and he gulps it down greedily.

Derek bends down to pick up a crumpled ball of paper that must have fallen out of Stiles bag, and Stiles heart drops in his chest. It's the goddamn note someone had thrown at him this morning, the doodle of them fucking. It feels like a lifetime ago now. Stiles winces, nervous about what Derek's reaction will be. He takes an anxious sip of his drink.

Derek eyes it critically, eyes narrowed in annoyance but his expression becomes increasingly more thoughtful. “My eyebrows are _not_ that bad, and you do not have _that_ many moles,” he says, “and besides, I've always thought I'd like to bottom.”

Stiles inhales his Dr Pepper, and then spits it all over his Chemistry notes in surprise. Derek looks across at him in alarm.

“Is that a problem?” Derek says anxiously. “I didn't mean now, just y'know... eventually.”

Stiles smiles into his can, “No,” he says. “Definitely no problem here.”

Because it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. Not Jackson, not Lydia, not Laura, not anyone at Beacon Hills High School. He and Derek have found each other now, and they get to explore all that that means for them together.

In the end that's all that matters.

 

 

o0o

 

 **And so dear reader, this story has officially finished, I hope you've enjoyed reading it. I've really enjoyed writing it. It's been so much fun.**  
**I've been so tremendously grateful for every comment and kudos. It really has made writing this more enjoyable, and thank-you so much to everyone who has taken the trouble to leave feedback. If you haven't yet, then please do, it really means a lot.**  
**I have other Sterek[fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works), which you may enjoy.**  
**Also I'm incredibly bad at[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo), feel free to come say hi, or just point and laugh.**

 


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